In the Breaking
by nyet khan
Summary: Akatsuki lies broken and Naruto hates the world. Where does he go from here?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: You know it. **

**S**

**In which a boy broke and did not die…**

**S**

He always meant to go home. But as much as he was titling and spinning and falling it was inevitable that intentions and actions took different turns.

But if he was honest and he wasn't—_not really, not always_—it might just have been rage. Or perhaps it wasn't. He didn't know and if he did he was very good at pretending otherwise.

It wasn't just rage in any case; not when he knew defeat and bitterness and scorn and—_dare he say it_—hate. It was all that and desperation fueled by horror and dread and—_someone, anyone_—vulnerable hurt.

So although he always meant to go home he was very much fearful that the moment he saw familiar Gates he'd finally go mad. That was a promise his body made even as his mind fell into a jittery mess saying _nononononono_ and _why won't it end?_ And they wouldn't know—couldn't image the truth made an hour/day/year/lifetime ago.

He really had meant to go home.

Honest.

Or maybe not.

He'd never wanted what he'd been given and hated everything he hadn't. He really couldn't swallow the poison—believe it!

Once more.

Smile for me.

Suffer for me.

Prove the better person.

Would it end now?

Do you promise?

Typical.

Promises made to him were never worth the breath wasted in their uttering.

You were wrong Youdaime. You were wrong _jiji_. You were wrong ero-sennin. You were wrong but the dead have no shame left in them—_did they have any to begin with?_ Dust and ashes and living chakra, did you see the trail of infant blood or was it just a dream?

Fitting then.

A life that had no beginning—_how could it when name and blood and clan were denied him?—_should then have no ending—_parents? I don't know my boy; they must have died in the Kyuubi attack_.

Forever and ever and ever.

Left breaking and falling and shattering and—_didn't you promise one day it would stop?—_this was cursed fate.

He had always meant to go home.

That was his only thought centuries/years/months/days ago. That was his last dream even as his body broke/shattered/fell apart. Alive and dead and caught in between as men in red clouds and black skies took his _burden_.

Goodbye demon fox.

Was it really so awful to have one precious/beautiful/bright/living second when he wasn't dying under a nine-tailed nightmare? Eighteen years of red-shadow death for one second of finally being alone.

It wasn't so bad to die then; wasn't so bad to finally leave it all behind.

Hadn't he been brave? Hadn't he believed in people? Loved them? Fought for them? Never blamed them? Even when he was crying/yelling/faltering and seeing the nothing born of something?

And hadn't anyone realized? No one had ever said _thank you_. His life—existence—was not among Kami's gifts; not when it was perverted to fit the desires of frightened men.

And not even his enemies would give him what his allies didn't—not so different after all. They tore his body apart, broke the seal, and took the last of bijuus into their dreams. But they were kind.

And this was their _gift_: they never looked away as he faltered in the middle of their circle; died in a cave with no name and no light. They saw him when so few people ever had.

But even for all their power they were still human and silly and blind.

Stupid.

Stupid of them not to keep watching. They should have. Shinobi had already proven the unnaturalness of their imagination—even the dead could lash past the grave.

And this was _Kyuubi's gift:_ eighteen years and only six scars to mark the time. Never ill and never anything but physically perfect in all that time. This everyone had vaguely realized but never really considered.

And this is when the world stops working: he did not live and he did not die. He was and he wasn't and might just have been a second too early or a second too late. He didn't really remember; only that the world broke and he fell along with it.

And this is what happened: he only started thinking a millennium/second/year/hour later. He was hungry and naked and shaking so badly and he might have broken again when he realized not even six scars where there for the horror.

Of the nine shinobi that were scattered in pieces and parts of familiar red only one still sputtered with life.

_What are you? _

And then even he was dead.

Didn't you promise it would be over?

And this is what he did: the glowing/grinning/howling Sealing Statue wouldn't stop looking at him.

So he broke it.

When he finally woke—_still alive and why couldn't he finally sleep?_—he scavenged rags to dress in from among the nine dolls lying around.

He started walking and thinking and somewhere along the way he realized if he saw his home again he might just end the world and everyone along with it. He'd always understood and done what little was in his power when he'd forgiven them. He understood. Honest. He gave his life for everyone who loved and hated and might just not have cared either way. So even if it wasn't his choice he still gave his life for his home.

And then he hated them when he realized he had not died—_stayed dead_—and just might never die.

It would never be over.

So it was only when the fox was truly dead that he did what he never had before.

Naruto hated.

And he lived.

**S**

**A/N: For all my confused readers, it's supposed to be disjointed. Naruto's a little unhinged having realized he's not dead, not a demon host, and not happy.**


	2. Chapter 2

**S**

**In which a man lives…**

**S**

In the beginning he hated and hated knowing he did not know how to live—_not in the way that mattered_.

A lifetime spend reaching for strength, higher and farther than anyone can see because he remembers (_nights huddled and weak, furious when fists make no dent and words were his only strength_). He learned—memorized—innumerable ways to kill and capture and trap and distract but when the ground shatters under his feet he is left with nothing but a kunai to hold.

He does not want to live (_not die, never die_) like that.

Even if he doesn't really know what he is, not anymore.

Because he is different. Not like the nine dolls left in pieces in a cave only he knows and not like eight other existence painted by sacrifice—he has left their circle of power and capture and _fallibility_. They have never known the feeling of stars and suns burning under skin, of endless tundras of ice, of impenetrable night and light only the blind can see, known the feeling of life and death, of ending and beginning and eternal brilliance. They have never known.

And he knows (_trembling/standing/breathing under a mountain of insurmountable knowledge that can never be described with any manmade language_).

He does not want to live_ (not die, never die) _like that.

That is how it starts.

He has never been the quickest, the strongest, the fastest, the best, or really anything that mattered. He has always been last. Moron. Unwanted. A nuisance. _Dobe_.

He was not among the first to simmer in the depth of their own hate (_scarred forehead and blind eyes; lonely and angry and red spinning betrayal_)

But this is why they were different: although he hated and _hated_ and would have killed if given the chance he has always known better. In this he was first among all those he knew. He turned from his hate, turned from the path, and while he did not forgive he did not mind forgetting.

Or perhaps he did.

It did not matter.

The ones he really wanted to hurt were dead already.

This is how it starts.

He walked for a while, thinking and not thinking and figuring out what became of his _life_.

So between one sunrise and another—_Akatsuki was just another red dawn_—he found himself before two graves.

Of the Demon of the Bloody Mist he did not care. He was a man who lived and died and took everything he wanted with him.

But the snow-bird was different; just another little boy staring at a world that did not want him, had never cared enough to know him. Haku, a boy too gentle to kill and forever denying a blood-stained name—i_t was the only way for a Bloodline Clan to end_—that condemned all he knew. Forever surrounded by ice-mirrors that reflected the world and somehow made him less than he already was.

Pitiful child.

Of the Demon of the Bloody Mist he did not care; not what he was and not what he represented. He did not care about power and leaders and dreams and duties and choices, did not care even if he once did. Did not care—_and even if he did it wasn't enough_—everything he'd once wanted with single-minded ferocity.

Haku…Haku was different. Mirror-image Haku forever trapped in a cage of his own power; no choice, no future, no destiny, no goal but to live for another.

Ha didn't know how long he sat next to those graves; gave no thought to the passing of stars and moons and suns (_even if they only burned under his skin_).

This is how it begins.

Eventually he decided.

He did not want to live from rage—this future he rejected. Those that suckled bitterness knew only how to rage, forever twisted caricatures of humanity for all their pretending. He'd lost too much too lose even that too.

Even if he'd never had it to begin with.

Eventually he stood, dressed in ill-fitting pants and a cloak that was mostly black but had once been bright with red-clouds.

_Akatsuki was just another red dawn, nothing else, nothing more. _

He'd made it so.

And then he walked toward the infamous Mist.

Haku would have understood.

This is how he lived—supreme among Heaven and Hell.

And it did not matter.

He lived.

**S**

5 October 2008

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

**S**

**In which a village bleeds…**

**S**

Kirigakure always smells of the sea; the bitter icy scent invading every lung and breath. It rises from the ground and settles in every shadow. This is Kirigakure: Village Hidden in the Mist.

In a way, it was the kindest fate.

_There are homes in Kirigakure permanently stained rust-red, bones—pale and grinning. And copper rust is muffled by sea-heavy air._

In a way, it was the cruelest of all lots.

_(cry cry cry. no one has ever come)_

The heavens cry this, the winds whisper it:

Kirigakure always smells of the sea. And for two decades there have been former Kirigakure shinobi venturing deep into the mainland, always knowing they are not home when earth and sky are clear and green and not right. But they know only the dead live in Kirigakure.

_(run and never stop—only death sleeps in childhood homes)_

Kirigakure is the sea. Kirigakure is storm and wind and vengeful days of tempest and days of miles and miles of silver bright oceans.

Kirigakure is blood and silver; Kirigakure is dark and paranoia and murder and insanity. Kirigakure is lost and falling and crying under a _kage_ that hasn't realized he's become just like the man he deposed eight years ago.

Kirigakure is doomed.

_(not enough, never enough—didn't you know? blood is never bright enough to light the way)_

And Kirigakure is someone's home. Kirigakure _was _someone's home. Once upon a time, all the stories say, there lived a boy named Haku. A boy who carried a secret and before he could be called an adult the boy would have lost everything and died many miles from mist covered dunes.

_Are you here, Haku?_, he wonders. _If I call will you answer?_

Sometimes he forgets. Some mornings he wakes thinking he is twelve, bright and determined and running to distant goals. Other morning he knows—he is eighteen and he has loved the world and hated the world and is now too tired to be either; he has seen the eyes of creation and broken things precious.

_(mirrors and mirrors—silver glory that now lays shattered. broken and unmade, he has tumbled too far to ever be whole)_

But one thing is true.

Kirigakure has no idea what has come the day a scruffy blond man first sees the faint dawn shinning through the mist.

He is not here to save a nation or a land. He is not here to save glorified blood or bright ideals. He no longer quite believes in them. He does not know if he has the strength to believe in them anymore.

But he is here.

And he thinks if nothing else, it is time to see if a butterfly's wings can really spawn a maelstrom.

**S**

**TBC…**


	4. Chapter 4

**S**

**In which a man finds a shattered mirror…**

**S**

The first year was incidentally the most difficult and by far the easiest.

He hadn't recovered enough sanity to worry overmuch and what lucidity he had extended only far enough to plan his next step. The first year he took up a plain-faced mask and proceeded to hunt down the bounties of missing-nins.

_(wind and flight. silver swift and impersonal crimson) _

Lives ended under his hands and red hissed on hard-packed earth.

He did not care.

He hunted and followed and caught and always made sure to never see Konoha. That was no longer his home.

_(save me save me save me—didn't you know? no one has ever heard you)_

Eventually a little more sanity crawled into his head, hesitant and well convinced of the futility of it all but willing to live in the shattered mirror of his mind all the same.

The first year was abstract in design. He hunted and collected money and eventually bought his first property.

_(child child child. take one step and then another—never sane and never lost—this is the way)_

The compound—because something that extensive could only be a compound—was once a clan house. Of course that was before civil war after civil war painted Kirigakure in decadent red and clan bloodlines became synonymous with the worst offence one could be born with.

In the end it always came down to blood.

_(even akatsuki had only ever seen red._

_red is blood._

_red is power._

_red is legacy.)_

In the never-ending flux of political struggle among the leaders of Kirigakure it was simple to acquire the deeds of a compound not even the homeless wanted. A permit to open an orphanage was surprisingly easy and issued without a thought. After all, who wanted to risk taking the damaged by-product of a land bleeding itself?

_(don't look. don't look. _

_sorry. so sorry._

_turn away child, can't you see?_

_the Mist is bleeding as it is)_

Never once did he think he could not do what he wanted. It was not arrogance that gave him the certainty that he alone stood above every hell imaginable. That he had the power to take his every desire _(even if he knew he no longer was sane enough to care)._

It rumbled within.

_(red fire and endless chasms: the world lived on and he knew the axis of calamity)_

In the midst of dust-coated halls and stained walls of what would become his home Naruto utilized his most familiar _jutsu_. Bushins of every nature—mizu, shadow, earth, cloud, sand—were summoned with enough hands to repair the compound. Their nature and diversity was such that though it was obvious he was not from Mizu it could not be said with any certainty from just where he did originate from.

The first year was the easiest.

He knew once he finally opened the compound to the orphans of Mizu—_snow-soft Haku had always been alone_—his headhunting days would end. He—an orphan himself—knew many ways to stretch a coin but eventually even that would end. He needed a way to funnel a steady income to the orphanage—he'd already seen two so-called orphanages in Mizu with reed-thin children and bellies too unused to food to know the difference. The Mizukage had neither the funds nor the interest to worry about dying children with no use but to cry on the earth.

_(save me save me save me save me)_

This was also remarkably easy too compensate for.

Men made their fortune making/growing/selling what someone else wanted. But men also spend lifetimes learning all they needed to succeed. In this he was different. He had a thousand hands, a thousand minds, a thousand hours to learn all he needed in the span of a day. And when he knew what he wanted he had a thousand helpers to give rise to a thousand projects.

His children—_and even if he did not know them yet or they him they were already his_—would know refuge.

_Haku would have smiled._

_(save me save me)_

And when the doors opened and his hands stretched across the alleyways of Mizu he knew he would have found Haku given the chance.

The first year was the hardest in many ways.

Too many children bitter and weary enough to know no stranger offered anything without a price. Children too scared to believe and too weak to live in anywhere but shadows. In some ways they were more broken than he and perhaps they knew that as well—like having recognized like—when they followed him home.

_(save me, still they cried)_

The first year was the easiest.

His hands were soft and silent as his mind stretched across Mizu and found the scarred children of the bloodline clans that had been turned away from every door. This was his promise to Haku. It was not to say he concentrated solely on these children but it was by far easier to find them.

He did not know what he was, having discarded what he had been, only that he simply _was_. His power was such that none could hide from him, least of all those given power of their own. It made those of a chakra-latent birthright easier to find in the shadows of Mizu.

The first year was the easiest.

_(save me, they hoped in the darkest of shadows. _

_still here and not yet gone)_

This was the time before politics and attention, when he was just another idealist who didn't understand not all lives were meant to be saved. A fool that thought he could control wild needy children. An employer whose staff inquiries were turned away before they could be uttered—after all who would willingly take up the compound of one of the most infamous bloodline clans? The rumored shinobi clan who served as the hands of one of the former Mizukages and credited for instigating the first in a series of civil wars.

It was no surprise no one had contested his acquisition of the compound.

The first year was the hardest.

_(save me, they raged._

_not here but not yet gone_)

He'd been broken too recently to ever consider being whole once more. He knew he was mostly made of shards from a broken world. That is who he was. But it was also true he'd never been stingy with what was his, even if he knew he could scarcely afford to give away anymore of himself. What did it matter anyway? It wasn't like he'd ever be whole again.

He was still foolish.

He gave himself away. It was perhaps because love was not something gutter children had ever been gifted freely that they understood the true value of what he gave them.

Naruto loved them.

_(save me!)_

It was also not to say his love was the end to their torment. This they taught them: there were millions of ways one could break. And because of this some of his rage left him.

(_twisted and torn. _

_caricatures of children and imitations of humanity. never quite real.)_

These children were shadow and glass, harsh and bright and loud and desperate. In a way—_Kami being the only one that could have predicted it_—he had been made for them to hold.

And because they were broken and he loved them, he gave them what he could of himself. He became what they needed and in his own foolish, fumbling way he was the shade that let their shadows live in the world.

He loved them. So he became what they needed. He was the hated figure with firm hands to bitter children, the protector to the weak, the mother to babes in his arms, the father that held them through nightmares, the charm that banished tormentors, the master to those who only knew how to obey, the grandfather that should have been there when parents died, the priest that forgave sins of desperation, the brother who laughed along with stupid plots, the sister that took a yard of cloth and made the clothes beautiful enough to be able to return to school with pride, the squawking aunt that held down squirming shoulders as years of dirt were scrubbed off, the mischievous savior who would unexpectatively stuff a cookie in silent months just when childish minds began to fear it was a dream. He was this and much more.

_(save me? here and here. _

_take a step and then another) _

In the first year he found many broken children. More often than naught he brought bloodline children, many knowing and many more clueless to their heritage, and welcomed them. They were children—_and not all had bright eyes_—who were all that remained of the genetic manipulation of the human genome (_his mind whispered to him_). So many were already broken.

_(every face he saw himself, every pair of hateful eyes he found his twin. _

_all that he was: made again and again in child's eyes)_

So many would only ever be able to function as ninja, he realized, shattered spirits made for a shattered lifestyle.

_(this is rage.)_

Genji bit his arm the first time he brought him to the compound, half-wild and silver-sheened pupil marking his legacy. A malnourished boy already having lost an eye and two fingers in the name of blind justice and a rage that had never healed. In three years, soap and time will finally reveal the brilliant blond hair of a boy—_gennin, he cried_—who pounded foreign chunnin hopeful—and the clear favorite—in a match to become a Chunnin of Mizu.

_(this is silence.)_

Aiko is two when he finds her in a bin, four days abandoned and nearly gone. She is weak and terrified for a very long time afterwards even when the memories have long since been forgotten. Her chubby hand will always be found in his—either the original or a bushin (_it's a long time before they realize how strange it is for him to be always there when they need him_). Her hand remains in his long after the chubbiness fades and the elegant bones of a woman emerge. He is there when he teaches her how to cut patterns in cloth and sow perfectly tiny stitches.

_(this is fear)_

Mai is thirteen—_nearly fourteen she yells sometime in the three hours of their acquaintance_—and bleeding as no child should. She is afraid and she is brave and even if she cries she thinks it can be forgiven this one time. Mai is thirteen and bleeding and a mother for all of 12 minutes before she dies.

Mai is not fourteen and not a child and she only wishes she was also not jealous of the haven she saw in her own child's future.

_(this is what it means to be forgotten)_

Dai doesn't know how old he is, doesn't know his family name, doesn't know the last time he ate, and only wishes he didn't know what his elder brother's back looked like when he finally became a mouth that could not be fed.

It takes him sixteen months to stop hording food under his bed and another twelve to finally believe his last meal wont be the last.

_(this is what it means for harsh reality to bed a childhood)_

Yuriko is a happy child, bright in the shadow of her two elder siblings. She doesn't remember a mother or father and only knows abstractly what it means when periodic flu epidemics sweep through Mizu. She doesn't remember the epidemic that took her parents nor two other siblings. She does remember the next epidemic to sweep the village and the weak coughs of her sister.

She remembers feverish brows and blurry eyes and most importantly sure hands and speckled blue and violet eyes that fed her sister water and poultices. She remembers fearful days spend in flux and the bright clarity of waking to see her sister smiling down at her. She remembers asking the blue eyes to teach her.

_(this is defiance)_

Kisho is proud. Proud of surviving, of taking, of being stronger. He is rebellious and destructive and selfish. He fights Naruto of the Blue Eyes and runs away five times in the four months. He is sick and shivering and spitting blood and so _happy _when Naruto finds him each time and brings him back.

_(this is what it means to be alone) _

Mutsumaru has spent a lifetime looking. Looking through forbidding windows, looking at faces, looking at hands, looking at children satchels, looking at bored old men sipping tea, looking at giggling men with orange novels in hand. He has spend a lifetime looking and looking and can't contain his joy the first time Blue Eyes sits him down and shows him the characters of his name. His looking will never end but at least this time he can finally look and understand that secret code—_language, Blue Eyes murmurs, kanji_—that hides everything from him.

_(this is what it means to be branded)_

Yutaka is more broken than most. Gills at the neck and faintly blue skin mark him more obvious than most. The fact that he survived long enough for Naruto of the Blue Eyes to find him is a miracle. But he is brilliant as only child weapons are prophesized to be so Naruto takes care to spend as much time as possible with him because he has learned from a lifetime of ending brilliant shinobi. Brilliance is nothing without a reflection to give to the world.

These are the lives that are reborn, remade, recreated. They are heavy and tangled and dark with a past that will live in each of them. But they are his.

Naruto has found his children.

And he has come Home.

**S**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Need a Beta. PM please.**

**- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - **

**S**

**In which a man rebuilds his world…**

**S**

He remembers more every day.

In the beginning he was as much a fumbling child as the orphans he welcomed into his halls.

He only hid it better.

It was one thing to say he would take all manner of strays but it was another thing to know how to make them grow. But even the blind must sometimes take a leap of faith into the dark abyss.

One step and then another.

Eyes wide open and what a terrifying unknown it really was.

Still…

A childhood of empty hands had already taught him a hundred different ways to hurt a child. His shinobi year mates had then proceeded to show him a hundred more ways to twist a child. He knew enough to know every wrong way a child could be broken.

_Rules and respect and unyielding demands. Molds of forbearers and inherited guilt. _

If he let himself think too deeply he'd realize he was way over his head.

So he didn't.

He'd always been an expert in denying reality and building his own. So he knew. All the children who looked at him with wide and frightened eyes didn't need to know reality. They needed him to tell them it was all a nightmare.

So he did.

This is truth.

This is now.

Mizu is an endless storm—this is truth.

Walls of brick and mortar are more than bloodstained legacy. In this now, they are Refuge.

_Endless violet eyes flare undying blue once more. _

S

The woman came during false dawn when the sky was still dark and damp and the House silent.

She was thin and pale and old with worry. In the different age she would have been pretty and light and weak because of an easy life. But she was strong as only a woman trapped could be strong.

She was strong even if she would never believe it. She did not run away and that was already more than he could say of himself.

"Please." She said—was all that she really could say when he opened the old servants' entrance to peer at her in the weak light. "Please."

Wordlessly he held his arms out and the woman stepped forward, trembling with coming grief and exhaustion as she placed a ragged bundle in his arms. The babe swaddled in patched linens did not stir.

Surprised for a moment, he kept an eye on the remaining bundle in her hands.

"I never—I couldn't…I didn't know." She continued helplessly. Thin calloused fingers hovered over newborn unmarred flesh, her touch ghosting over skin that would not remember this moment.

"I understand." He said because he did even if a part of him would hate her a little bit for this moment. But he was once a ninja and had been taught to hide such things long ago. Titling his head slightly, blue eyes flickered across the empty street. "I understand, please step inside for a moment."

The woman paled even in the dim light. "I have to—I'll be missed soon. I…I have to go."

Blue eyes settled on the thin woman. "This is the last thing the child will require of you."

She flinched.

"Children." She murmured as she stepped lightly inside, nervous gait that of a wild animal, as she held up the bundle in her arms. "I'm sorry—I'm so sorry. My poor babies."

In the shadow of an old tree, half encroaching in what used to be the servant's walk, he sat on a raised root. The baby in his arms mewled softly before settling into his warmth. He had always been warmer to the touch than normal.

The woman remained standing, both hands now cradling her remaining bundle.

"Tell me what I will tell them. Tell me the reason so they may understand why." His voice remained calm and commanding—expectant. He knew already what would come of this.

The woman would leave the two babies in his arms. He would raise them in his House and he would love them. And as they grew they would be hurt and resentful and perhaps they would hate the woman before him but they would never know her. She in turn would go home, weak excuses on her lips and a mother's grief never ending. In years time she will sometimes walk past his House, desperate eyes searching every child's face for her own.

But for now…

Weary eyes gazed at the child in her hands. "I didn't know. I didn't. My mother…she had to…she was alone. She suspected _he_—my father—was from a Bloodline but she didn't have a choice. I'm like my mother but…my babies…

"They're starting to say we've been cursed. Everyone who comes near my poor babies gets weak and sick. My mother…she's dying. She took care of my babies the longest and now…she's so weak. I don't know how—I don't know—but my poor babies are doing this!

"They are Bloodline-born!" She whispered harshly, brokenly.

_The worst sin a child could be born with._

"They'll kill them. They'll kill them! I can't…I can't save anyone."

He held up his free arm for the other child. Gently she settled the child in his arms. At last kneeling before him, she touched their foreheads in one last blessing.

"There are rumors…I've heard…that this place would help them…"

Blue eyes gazed at her for the last time before they turned to face the sleeping children. "I understand. Leave this place, woman, and forget what happened today. Your children sickened with the same illness that has your mother. She will recover. They were too young to survive."

He did not look as her eyes became bloodshot and tormented. "I—I…yes….can you…tell me your name?"

Hesitantly she reached for his arm, her touch almost fearful—

_Seven more children—all with her brown eyes. Two dead before their third birthday. Three belong to her husband but two are products of harsh years when she will sell her body. _

_She will seek his doorstep twice more._

—Her touch withdrew.

He did not look at her. Instead one of the sleeping twins stirred quietly and opened soft brown eyes. "I am Aoitsuki."

_The blue dawn._

He continued gazing at the curious child even as his twin joined him in his study. Quietly the woman retreated, soft hands unlatching the servants' entrance and disappearing into the early dawn.

Alone save for the twins, he drew them closer to himself.

"Poor babies, you were so hungry, weren't you?" Fumbling chakra strings winded around his arms, gently sucking at his chakra.

"No one had enough chakra to feed you."

The babies gurgled softly as an unnamed hunger finally settled within themselves. They were born with the ability to feed on enemy chakra, genetically altered to train their responses from the womb. Years ago they would have been welcomed into a Bloodline Clan, born to shinobi parents that knew enough to feed them with their excess chakra.

Instead they appeared after a generation in the family of a civilian woman, her untrained chakra too weak to feed babies that were starving without her knowledge.

"Now…what shall I name you two?"

Brown eyes never left endless blue.

"Welcome to the Aoitsuki House, little ones. I am Aoitsuki Naruto. Welcome Ryuutsuki Seito and Ryuutsuki Seiki"

Brown eyes closed softly.

S

The Ryuutsuki twins were not the first children left on his doorstep though they were the only ones whose mother attempted to explain.

But from the moment he holds the babies he understands something new.

There are no good choices; there are only bad and worse choices. And in the end Seito and Seiki are lucky enough to end up with the lesser evil.

He is not their father but he is all they will ever know as such.

_(the world is turning and it is no longer completely in danger of ending)_

A year passes, marked only by the sound of children laughing and flying dust as abandoned halls come to life once more.

The next comes with equal calm, interrupted only once when their modest greenhouse is expanded into a massive structure. Frugally used, the money earned during his headhunting days still supports the orphanage but he had never been one to indulge in complacency. The compound's old greenhouse is used to grow vegetables and herbs meant to supplement their diet. The new greenhouse is meant for something entirely different.

_A little more of the world settles._

Grown now and watched over by a slew of orphans were medicinal and poisonous herbs (poison was sometimes the only remedy). The years had played havoc with Mizu's civilian population and where once they had readily supplied Mizu proper with what it needed, now it wasn't uncommon to have the supply chain from outskirt villages interrupted every once in a while as a one skirmish or another broke out.

In their third year, he carefully guides some of the older orphans on how to properly harvest their crop. The west side of the compound would always smell strongly of herbs. It is a scent more than one new resident learns to link with Aoitsuki House.

The fourth year is another first—he leads sweet Yuriko, Kisho, and Aysa in the making of poultices. Mizu Central Hospital is destroyed in the beginning of the year and the small clinics that spring up don't have the supply chains needed to service even half of their patients. The Mizukage half-heartedly attempts to reestablish the hospital but ultimately settles for providing private medics for his own forces and letting the civilian population filter where they may. That year medic-nins and doctors reacquaint themselves with the more traditional remedies the Aoitsuki House supplies.

He says nothing when he hears the news.

_He Sees more now than ever before—of what once was, is, and cou1d be._

_Calamity is still within reach._

That year he builds a small forge and teaches some of his more adept charges how to mold fire and metal into everything from construction nails to farming tools. He ignores request for shinobi equipment from two of the iron shops that distribute his wares. A few months later three blacksmith and an apprentice die as another skirmish erupts, this time the only explanation given involves market territory, ninja politics, and an unlucky kunoichi.

_This Warring time will not end soon._

He says nothing.

The fifth years marks the first turning point. Somehow or another the Aoitsuki House has stayed financed, has managed to steadily grow, and most of all has carved a future he hadn't been able to see in the begging.

The oldest orphan is a twenty-one year old Mieko—one of his first strays—trained by him as a seamstress and willing to stay on. There are a few more in that age group—boys and girls trained in everything from seam stressing to forging to pharmacists but it is twelve and eleven year old rookie chunnin—Genji and Yutaka—that represent Aoitsuki's largest link to the outside world.

_It has never been a secret that Aoitsuki housed Bloodline children. _

While there are several dozen gennin on active duty and many more in the Shinobi Academy it is no surprise that genius Yutaka and surprising contender Genji are being watched by Mizu's many warring circles. They are young and powerful, orphans with no strong established allegiances, and backed by the mysterious Aoitsuki House.

In the wake of it all Aoitsuki House continues to quietly prosper.

They were an odd place; uneasy neighbors sneered and looked away and thankfully children did not incite the revulsion needed to torch the place.

Not yet anyway.

Mizu's politics forever shift, waged with words and occasionally force. Mizu, for all that it is one of the five great hidden villages, doesn't even have the pretence of a united shinobi force. The Academy is unsurprisingly a showcase for the warring factions—unaffiliated shinobi-in-training courted with promises of power and training. And in the midst of it all sit his orphaned children.

It takes no great leap to track other young shinobi back to Aoitsuki. Mizu's warning factions are used to Clans and Families producing generations of their ilk. They do not know what to do with an orphanage doing the same. Mizu State Orphanage—the largest of its kind—has a reputation for producing most of the woman in the Red Lights District.

They know nothing of what Aoitsuki House is.

They know even less of the single man that runs it—Aoitsuki Naruto.

But it isn't till the tenth year, after years of frustration for all the widely contracted shinobi assigned to watch Aoitsuki that things begin to change. After all despite the nearly hundred solid clones—and _Kami_ only knows the chakra needed for that feat—intelligence reports remained awkwardly sparse. And while the mystery that surrounded the director of Aoitsuki House had been its own protection against outside encroachment it was no longer enough.

Despite every misgiving Aoitsuki House—an orphanage of all things—had become powerful.

That was the most dangerous asset to posses.

_Change is coming._

**S**

In the beginning of the year a scantily veiled girl leaves a three year old infant next to the old Servants' entrance.

Third-year Academy students, twins Seito and Seiki, were only the first whose guardian rang the backdoor bell and whose mother actually stayed behind to personally hand over the child. Every few months the event would repeat itself, the heavy door sometimes revealing babes still clutching their umbilical cord but other times giving older children, trembling hands firmly clasping that of younger siblings.

It took a stronger child to ignore the terror they've been fostered with for Bloodline children. But even if they could not feel entirely easy, whispered stories had plenty of impact. The year previously, three scribes, an apprentice pharmacist, a glassmaker, and two carpenters settled in shops around Mizu. In the same amount of time four new whores left the State Orphanage and a score of inn scrubbers turned smugglers emerged from Ren State Orphanage.

It took time, expertise, and materials to train apprentices. Neither State Orphanage had the funds for such a wide scale operation or the people to implement it with. After the first year it was no secret within Aoitsuki House that Father Aoitsuki—as some of his wards called him—through a large amount of solid clones was able to single-handedly keep an eye on all the House's charges and because of those clones had the hands to do everything needed.

_Like vultures, warring parties watched Aoitsuki. Such a lovely place…_

_With greedy eyes wide open (look into blue) and dream that conquest is possible._

It was under that tightening net that one day he opened the back door to find the abandoned five year old child, his mother having fled as fast as she could.

Thin arms held themselves up in a silent wish to be held and obligingly his ungloved hands reached for the child.

Strong arms held the curious boy—

_Strenght and hidden compassion marked watchful bright green eyes._

_unseen hands settling ceremonial robes on strong shoulders._

_Bowed heads and fists against hearts._

_Mizukage!_

—hands retreated into voluminous sleeves.

"My dear little boy, what manner of Mizukage will you be?"

Green eyes blinked.

"Aozaki Inari."

The child smiled at him.

He did not say anything more; not to anyone with interest in someone with the fortitude to be _kage _or even to the child himself.

So long as Aoitsuki House remained undisturbed he was content to let things be.

And perhaps that is his most foolish dream because that year is also the year the reigning Mizukage called him for an audience and he in turn met the young Endou Seiji.

He could no longer afford to say nothing.

**S**

"Master Aoitsuki?"

The blond-haired young man stilled for a moment, head titling in an odd moment that was too graceful and too primal to settle easily in the eyes of those watching. "Yes…?"

"Master Aoitsuki, I have some matters to discuss with you, permitting your leisure may I call upon your hospitality this Sunday?" The man speaking smiled an altogether polite and bland smile, friendly without being comfortable. The blond man did not bother to hide pursed lips. "Two hours past noon, Mister…?"

"Endou. Endou Seiji."

Naruto gave an equally bland smile back. He said nothing more, gave nothing away, and simply quietly waited till Endou shifted in a manner he hadn't learned to hide yet. They parted with one more nod. Shrugging off the encounter, Naruto simply returns to his inspection of bolts of cloth.

This year eight of his children would be entering into the Academy. And all eight children would need to be appropriately attired.

Years of financial planning have taught him the wisdom of manufacturing as much as possible within his House. And even as a child, Naruto had known shinobi gear was painfully expensive. Poverty may have made him skimp on his own equipment (excusable in retrospect—his body was built to ignore damage) but he wasn't about to make the same allowances for his own children.

So this is why he found himself weighing two nearly identical spools of wire thread. Properly woven and molded the wire thread would become the protective mesh meant to reinforce shinobi attire.

Although he found the particular task mind-numbing luckily one of his older boys—Jun—was interested in the intricacies of shinobi-ware. Naruto was not above fobbing the task on someone else.

With a final nod, Naruto signaled the vendor. Blue eyes carefully watched as the man charged him the amount ticketed. His face remained impassive before bowing slightly in parting. A marked difference from the first time he had bought wire thread.

Things were changing.

The years had been kind in a way.

Tensions between the Warring factions had settled somewhat in the last years (never entirely fading) and in their way the villagers of Mizu had relented toward Aoitsuki.

While not entirely easy with the existence of Bloodline children the fact that they were clearly orphans tampered their xenophobia. For all the history associated with Bloodline the truth remained that Aoitsuki's orphans were Clan-less and alone. They were being reared by a man who, though eccentric, was single-handedly doing the most to rebuilt Mizu's middle-class.

The villagers—at least any who had spend nights suffering over chronic supply shortages or watching someone die because there were either no medics or no one skilled in using them—recognized the small trickle of civilians leaving Aoitsuki every year (and only predicted to increased with time).

Aoitsuki—despite sealing itself off from large-scale interactions (a fact the villagers were not quite shameful enough to regret, at least not yet)—never made an effort to hide itself. It did as it said.

It was an orphanage dedicated to imparting an education on its wards.

And there was a sort of relief to be found in knowing where the Bloodline children resided. There had always been a fear among different parties that children were quietly shuffled behind compound walls and trained as personal Clan soldiers. (It was a strategy commonly practiced as everyone was marked to find out over the conflict strewn years.)

And while Aoitsuki House represented its own sort of danger—a consolidation of loose power—in the end it was the lesser of two evils.

It is a balance Naruto predicted ten years ago and has carefully guided at all times.

It was also a precarious line to keep.

Internally Aoitsuki finally stabilized in the eight year enough so external forces could no longer ignore the possibility of the House's impact on Mizu's politics. He gained two more years as Mizu's various intelligence units tried to make sense of Aoitsuki Naruto—the man, the motives, and even the hidden history. (Not that they gained anything new)

_Some names do not survive their light. Not when there is too much weight—anger-guilt-hate—in their memory_

_Believe it!_

Mizu lives in the now. And it wants to know who this foreigner in its midst really is. But he has learned not to give things for free. He has and will use every skill and secret to preserve in his adopted land.

It is balance.

Ten years come and gone, and he could no longer hide behind his gated compound.

**S**

Unlike the Sandaime Hokage's easy comradice with his subordinates, the Rokudaime Mizukage (and because of usurpation and subsequent creative historic doctoring, also the second man to hold the exact title) was an entirely different creature.

There was no softness in his features, no air of invitation.

Naruto, for all that he bowed as custom dictated to the very same man, personally thought the Rokudaime had good reason to avoid face-to-face meetings (and not just because of the very real likelihood of assassination). He simply did not have the charisma to court anyone's vanity.

From his raised dais, the Mizukage surveyed the wiry blond in front of him. (And a small part of Naruto snorted in derision—the part that remembered a Hokage worked behind a desk for his village and did not tower over his village).

_Ten years later and memories were becoming easier to bear._

For his part, the Mizukage was distinctly unimpressed with the boy intelligence reports had flagged as a growing entity. While his coloring was just on the normal side of exotic for Mizu, it wasn't anything more outlandish than half the shinobi forces. He was thin and of average height, entirely unarmed if his guards were to be believed and in the three hours he'd been made to wait his agents had clandestinely gathered nothing save the fact the man was patient and prone to using manners to as a smokescreen. A very large part of the Mizukage just wanted to outright dismiss the man as a weak-willed civilian, another useless bleater that crawled all over Mizu and had no other use but to annoy him.

But he didn't.

Even if he was inclined to, he couldn't ignore the man's activities. (Seven years now shinobi students sprang from Aoitsuki and although gennin were still gennin Mizu was trained in spotting those with strength.) The urge to consider the man harmless was completely stifled as soon as Aoitsuki was led to his audience, eyes down and hands demure. Standing between his ANBU guards—ever present and always masked—the man, despite all signs pointing to the contrary, managed not to be overshadowed by his more intimating surroundings.

It takes a special sort of man to stand without posturing.

They say those most ignorant are often in the position of making wisest observations. (Fools and children speak the truth.) So it was that the Mizukage—ignorant as he was of what made the man before him truly special—made an observation, one which only a few had noted and often times never took into account the full implications of it. The blond man for all his picturesque meekness had a dangerous charisma.

There was an invitation in blue-violet eyes, a directness and expectation, that made the Mizukage—raised on his dais and robed ceremonially—feel as if he was meeting an equal. And while it was subtly insulting for men of their distinct stature the Mizukage was perspective enough to image how Aoitsuki could inspire Mizu's beggars and cursed to reach out for whatever lay hidden behind those blue-violet eyes.

All he needed now was to figure out why such a promising man was an orphanage director of all things.

"Mizukage-sama, Aoitsuki Naruto." One of the faceless guards murmured, stepping back to his regular position against the wall.

"Aoitsuki." The Mizukage finally acknowledged when it became clear that the man did not feel the nervous pressure to begin filling up the silence. "We have been reviewing your records. You are not a native of Mizu."

And there lay the most perplexing truth; for only a native of Mizu would be tenacious enough to willingly cling to it in spite of political tensions that never retreated.

But it was to Naruto's credit as well—and he knew it. Native or not, ten years after the fact was a little too late to be raising concerns, least of all by a Mizukage that was chained by the fear he would upset the delicate balance that had ruled Mizu's peace for the last few years.

"That is true, Mizukage-sama."

"You were issued the deeds to what is now the Aoitsuki House by the Governing Council of Mizu during the third year of the Oga-Tsuruga Conflict."

Naruto smiled politely and nodded. It was his luck that he managed that concession during a three year silent civil war during which there was no clear candidate for Mizukage after the assassination of the last one. The Governing Council merely reflected widespread politics and remained too conflicted to effectively worm any concession from him. It would have been entirely different situation if he'd had to beseech one single man with one single ambition.

"Ignoring those still attending the Shinobi Academy, Aoitsuki has managed to produce five jounin, twenty-five chunnin, and sixty-nine gennin."

"Sixty-eight gennin," Naruto corrected. "Reiko Takagi died this morning from damage sustained a week ago."

The Mizukage paused but did not comment, "That makes nearly a hundred Mizu Shinobi. Nearly a hundred of _my_ soldiers affiliated with a man this village knows very little about. It would be…very inconvenient to place the loyalties of those serving me in doubt simply because it was their…fortune to be housed by a foreigner."

A part of Naruto—the part of his most resonate to his insolent younger self—wanted to call the man an idiot for questioning his own shinobi. But time had bred patience and a certain appreciation for fighting and fooling and hiding with words alone (that part of his spirit remained). But there was also a part of Naruto that remained broken, something of his humanity never recovered when he was shattered (_The Mizukage did not know enough not to tempt Calamity.)_

"I would hope I have done nothing to raise concerns."

"That remains to be seen…what I remain curious about is why a shinobi with your obvious chakra capacity is reduced to being a caretaker."

"I do not find myself unsatisfied with my occupation, Mizukage, and while I make it no secret that I did receive some training at one point I am neither a shinobi nor do I ever want to be known as such. If I can explain?"

Naruto never paused, keeping his words firmly imbedded in the truth even as he enthusiastically deceived. "I have been an orphan since birth and while I managed to receive training I have never qualified to even be a gennin. My large chakra capacity gave me no control and my early training was designed for a more average chakra-level. There have never been any adults interested in what that would mean if I should have ever risen within shinobi ranks. And while I know better now, I'm too bitter to rewrite history.

"I am not a shinobi. I have never had anyone to guide me when I was still young enough to want it. I am not a native of Mizu but Mizu is not the only places were conflict leaves victims that can't be helped. There isn't much I can do in this world without resorting to something that will cost me my sanity—but what I've done—what I've built—that holds a lifetime's satisfaction."

The Mizukage studied Naruto, trained eyes classifying every motion as an involuntary betrayal of his true state of mind. But Naruto had also been a shinobi and knew better than to lie. Everything he'd said, every thing he'd alluded to was truth. But very little of his truth revealed a true picture of his past.

The Mizukage pursed his lips, clearly guessing some of Naruto's strategy. "I'm sure if I ordered my intelligence and torture division agents to take you in you would be a lot more helpful."

Naruto continued to smile that gentle smile that Sandaime must have practiced half his life to drive his supplicants up the wall. "Yes, I imagine you could."

Nobody—not even the Mizukage—moved. The placid expression on Naruto's face was all too reminiscent of the same countenance worn by broken shinobi, right before they started killing everyone in their path.

(Zabuza Momochi was only one Mizu shinobi that painted the ground red.)

And finally Naruto's smile morphed into something more real. His smile became sharper and colder, eyes uncrinkling enough so that the darkening violet eyes were not hidden. There was no killing intent released but then again it was unnecessary given the tension in the room. "But the fact remains, what will you gain when I lose?"

"For all that Aoitsuki House is an orphanage, it has already produced _nearly a hundred shinobi _and will produce more every year. When you break my orphanage, when you destroy me—can you ever be sure that those very same shinobi won't go after you for destroying what might be the only home—the only father—they've ever known? And if you do order my children killed, can you be sure the slaughter of Mizu's forces won't spark our next civil war? Are you confident enough in your power, in your enemies, in your allies, that you will survive?

"So again, what will you gain when I lose?"

To his credit the only sign that betrayed the Mizukage was a light flush from what might have been a temper in younger days.

"You're very confident."

Naruto eyes were hidden away as they crinkled back into his Sandaime smile. "No, not really. But what I can do does not wholly depend on myself. Whether I walk out of here or not…that is not something I should fret overmuch on, is it?"

Nothing else was said between both men, Naruto unwilling to tempt fate by either being too much of a braggart or issuing incendiary threats and the Mizukage still too cautious. Because the interview did not go as the Mizukage predicted.

Aoitsuki was not a simple civilian, hampered by bonds and obligations. He was not a man too afraid of death—either his own or that of his so-called children. The man that came before him was ruthless as only experienced leaders were; willing to die, willing to sacrifice. Willing to do anything if it meant continuation, not of themselves but what they represented.

Even as Aoitsuki walked out, the Mizukage was horribly reminded of just who's back he was watching. Every faceless Clan leader, backed by blood and loyalty, that circled his throne, now walked away from him once again.

Aoitsuki had formed his "Clan" right under Mizu's very nose. Any hope of crushing Aoitsuki quietly in the night faded at that moment.

Aoitsuki Naruto had won.

And no one had realized it early enough to even fight against his wave.

**S**

Outside of Hidden Villages, shinobi make up a small amount of the overall population. Even within those Hidden Villages, those that make it past basic training—imparted either through Academy-style learning or private apprenticeships—a further half never make it to gennin or above.

It isn't intelligence or physical strength that set the bar (though possessing either certainly helps). It takes a different kind of mind and skills to begin training from early childhood in order to enter a profession that is guaranteed to make you an equally young corpse if you are simply _not_ fast enough.

In retrospect there is a reason why the greatest shinobi are spawned from the most dysfunctional of situations. Duties, guilts, persecutions, love—generations of men and women had risen on the backs of those ghosts. It was no surprise that Aoitsuki House was ideally suited to the task of producing _driven shinobi_.

But even then, it was also clear that not everyone that had the reason to be a shinobi had the spirit.

_Haku for all his brilliance had always been too gentle._

Some had seen enough darkness in the world to find no reason, not even anger at the injustice, enough to tempt them into a shinobi's life.

Early on, when Aoitsuki was still half-a-dream and a patchwork of reality, Naruto had known better than to tempt the populace by sending his children to the local state-run primary school. The Oga-Tsuruga conflict had just been ending and gossip was alive with the news that Oga's last stand involved programmed orphaned Bloodline children.

Instead he'd done what he'd always done best—forged a solution with a liberal amount of solid clones.

He would teach them.

Naruto had been educated in his youth and what he did not know was not impossible to find out.

By the time the outside world would be interested in the goings-on of Aoitsuki's inner sanctum, more than one person would be left stunned. The younger years, those children not even Naruto could in good conscience allow to begin learning a trade, where assigned to a Naruto-created and taught primary school or in even younger cases the nursery. The energetic shrimps were corralled and forcibly taught using a revival of Iruka-sensei's force of personality.

The older children (those opting out of the Academy or failed students) were given lessons in the early morning and then send of with one of a multitude of clones to complete some odd chore that would eventually set the foundations for a trade.

For all his early fumbling in this system Naruto wasn't all that worried, even shit-useful tradesmen were better than none. The last three civil wars had practically gutted two generation's of Mizu's middle class. Mizu as such was disappropriately composed of Clan and Family wealth cloistered in their compounds and the very poor that had no hope of advancement. There were still apprenticeships into trades but too many skilled men and women had died in the conflicts and with them their livelihood.

It made what Naruto was doing all that more unusual.

"Eyes front children!" Naruto yelled, voice a near perfect mimicry of Iruka at his most relentless.

Nearly thirty students shifted to look at the blond man, a wide range of faces aged anywhere between 14 and 19 years old. They weren't the only orphans in that age-range but they were the ones Naruto felt would be needed for his next project.

"Noriaki will be passing out folders to your particular group leaders. Rikiya and Toshiro and their kids have already drafted the plans for our next project. Junichi—you'll be managing this project. A caravan to one of the inland villages is scheduled to leave Mizu in three days. Whoever you take with you will be traveling with one of our accountants—Megumi is free—and I'm sure you can bargain down enough to make me proud—"

"Megumi certainly can." Someone muttered.

"…scary-lady."

Naruto merely grinned his approval. "I've hired a gennin team to escort you to and from. Once the team is back with supplies Kosuke will be overseeing construction. For those of you who know even less than your much hated Sensei—"

"—you're not _that_ hated, Sensei!"

"How kind. Anyway, we will be building a ramen cart for Koji and Tomoko!"

On cue the older students let out sharp whistles. Koji and Tomoko were in their early twenties and some of Naruto's earliest wards. They were also first trained in the food industry by working and feeding a multitude of snot-nosed kids from Aoitsuki's kitchens and were later send to work at a ramen restaurant in one of the outlying villages. (Naruto was still leery about attracting too much notice within Mizu proper.) The culmination of their training was the final step in the system slowly being institudualisized within Aoitsuki itself. Older trainees were ultimately sent out to real establishments for their final apprenticeships.

Luckily Koji and Tomoko's apprenticeships were one of the easiest acquisitions he ever had to make. (Usually it involved an unnamed monetary quantity and in some cases schooling within Aoitsuki's primary school for outside children.) Naruto had always managed to bond with ramen owners due to either a byproduct of his youth or something instinctive that let everyone know Naruto and ramen were indecently acquainted. His former wards' situation was even sweeter because of how ridiculously in love both Koji and Tomoko were.

Normally a ramen stand would either be the product of several years work or come about as an inherited acquisition. Koji and Tomoko would be bypassing that entirely. Instead their stand would come as a loan from Aoitsuki House, to be paid through set monthly amounts. The only reason it was at all possible was because Naruto had the means to cheaply acquire the raw materials from outside Mizu and had the knowledge—already passed on to children he was training—to bring the project about.

"Unfortunately the stove will have to be bought but all other utensils—we'll be using pottery instead of metal—will be produced by Mitsuaki and those working at the kiln. Akari, if you could sow the canopy? Remember, it doesn't hurt to ask if you need help. It will hurt if I find you've been screwing around! Dismissed!"

His children began rising from their seats, some scrambling and some lagging, as Naruto fluttered about hugging as many awkward limbs as he could reach—and he was fast enough to reach a good deal. Naruto had always privately maintained uptight assess (and his childhood was filled with a whole slew of them) had really needed a hug. He'd managed to put his theory to practice from very early on.

Nearly everyone had run off when Naruto finally turned his attention to two girls waiting at his elbow.

"Now…what can I do for you, my dears?"

Karin smiled before abruptly stepping forward and fiercely hugging Naruto. The older blond didn't say anything, merely returning the hug just as strongly. He waited patiently till Karin finally turned her head enough to speak.

"Thank you, Sensei. For doing this for Tomoko-nee and for letting me help."

"Anything for my children." Was all Naruto quietly said. He understood what Karin was trying to say. While neither Tomoko nor Karin were blood-related, the older girl had been as much mother to Karin as Naruto had been a father to them both. And to orphans such bonds were all the more precious because while they were not born with any obligation to care for the other, they'd willing chosen to form a bond.

"Thank you, Sensei." Karin repeated again, her best-friend smiling widely at them from her position.

"Of you go—you've work to do."

"See you later Sensei!"

_His children are growing._

_And there is no greater wonder._

**S**

Endou Seiji is the final milestone that brands that tenth year.

When he finally comes that fated Sunday he is led into Aoitsuki's tea room by Sayako, her impeccable mannerisms better set against a high-class House than an orphanage. The girl had been trained as his Housekeeper—using every formal uptight manner imparted from shinobi lessons designed for infiltration—and would soon be leaving to be a personal maid to some rich young lady in the capital of Mizu no kuni.

Naturally Endou—trained as a shinobi, the rumored heir to the Endou Clan, and as one of his wards said, a skilled jounin—noticed the inconsistency. "I wasn't aware an orphanage could afford to employ such a servant."

Naruto gave his Sandaime-smile—indulgent and open. "My girl is not a servant of Aoitsuki. She will be leaving soon for her new employment in the capital."

"Hn." Endou sighed.

"You have done very well for yourself. I hardly recognized this compound from what it looked like under the Hoshigaki Clan."

Naruto smiled and gave his thanks. Neither mentioned that it was the Endou Clan who engineered Hoshigaki's downfall. The only survivor—to their knowledge—was Hoshigaki Kisame and only because he had defected from both his Clan and Village years ago. Of course, only Naruto knew were _those_ bones were buried.

"A Clan and an orphanage really do serve distinct purposes."

"I hope you don't mind if I indulge in gossip but I heard the Mizukage was considering giving you governing control over the State Orphanages."

"While I cannot say what the Mizukage may be thinking, I can say that no one has said anything about that to me. The State Orphanages are institudualisized as an off-shot of the Mizukage's office. I doubt it will be easy or even beneficial for control to be transferred from the military to civilian hands."

"I suppose."

Both quietly drank their tea and didn't mention all that Naruto had implied. He would not take a post within Mizu's forces, even if it should be nothing more than an administrator. His seemingly soft humanitarian visage would not bend to the prospect of helping even more bleeding children if it meant tangling with the military.

"But I'm sure you have been considering expansion. I doubt you'll be able to acquisition property of this size again and Aoitsuki House must be reaching full capacity if it hasn't already."

Naruto chuckled, the motion a full mimicry of the Sandaime. He needed the former Hokage's calm when all he felt like doing was beating Endou silly for even sniffing around _his House—his children_. "You've done your homework. My House will be approaching full capacity soon enough and like you say another compound this size will be hard to acquire."

A fact that wasn't all due to the money involved. More than one party was wary of allowing Aoitsuki to expand unheeded or uncorraled to them.

"For the time we'll manage."

"Needs must, I suppose." Endou shrugged. "I think you have the most fascinating use of solid clones I've ever seen. If the shinobi nations were of a more peaceful nature I image this is what peace-time use of jutsu's would look like."

Something truer crept into his Sandaime smile and hidden eyes. "It's not the first time I've heard that sentiment. But to bring peace to the Elemental Nations? That can only be done with power. Not something anyone will easily manage."

For the first time something of Endou's true personality shinned through and not just the façade of diplomacy from an information-gathering Clan heir. "Do you believe that's at all possible?"

This time it was Naruto's turn to shrug. "Someone once told me: 'Everyone feels pain the same. You are working for your justice and I for mine. But if revenge is called justice, then that justice breeds more revenge…and becomes a chain of hatred…We cannot help but know that people can never understand each other. The world of ninja is ruled by hatred.'

"So how do you find a way to bring peace? Even if people manage to understand the source of hatred…it does not mean they can forgive."

"Shinobi are not creatures of peace." Endou finally said because he couldn't really answer anything else. He'd already seen too much as a shinobi himself.

Naruto gave Endou a wry smile. For all that Naruto's face remained remarkably free of the passage of age, Endou was actually younger than Naruto by three or four years. "It doesn't mean shinobi are not also humans, and humans have a tendency to dream of peace."

"I can finally see why you aren't a shinobi." Endou finished somewhat regretfully. Just imagining the ingenuity needed to build Aoitsuki House coupled with the enormous chakra the blond man possessed was a clear indication that Naruto had all the potential of becoming one of those legendary ninjas. And not just a legend because he was ruthless enough to murder any number of people but because there was something…_great_ about the blond man.

"So if you have no interest in being a shinobi and you really do have such a depressing view on the whole system, then why in the world are you allowing so many of your wards to enter the system?"

"Just because I cannot change the world does not mean my wards cannot do any better. I try and teach them what I've learned before I send them to the Academy. I hope they are a little wiser in what they do with their power—"

"Because change can 'only be done with power'?" Endou repeated.

"Yes. I hope that I do not make the mistake of letting my children inherit all of their predecessors' mistakes."

"You cannot change the fact that children inherit the world their predecessors build. That is the order of things!"

"And because they must _take_ this world as we leave, must they also _live_ with our mistakes? The only fate we are born with is the one we accept."

"A pretty notion but how true is it in practice?"

Naruto titled his head, hands lifting to encompass the air around him. "My House offers my children an opportunity but in the end it is their personal effort that changes their 'fate'. There is only so much I can do."

"But that's not an exactly fair comparison. If it wasn't for you those children would have no chance at changing their fate. They would have had to accept what they were born with."

"Perhaps, perhaps not; but that 'chance', that 'fate'—that is a result of my power. My power cannot change the world, cannot bring about peace to the Elemental Nations, but it _can_ change the lives of those I choose to take in. I can only hope something good comes about the change brought about by the power my children will eventually gain."

Endou contemplated his empty tea cup for a moment before throwing back his head and laughing. "I really don't know how we got so distracted. It is a pleasure talking to you Aoitsuki-san. I haven't met many who indulge this freely in…healthy debate."

Naruto smiled freely, letting blue eyes shine, before he let his smile fade back into his Sandaime façade. "I think we could have been friends."

The easy comradice of the moment faded abruptly, leaving Endou visibly tense at the transition. "Oh? And what makes you think we can't be friends? I would have thought you would have no objections to my company."

No sign of discomfort appeared on the blond man's face. "Let me correct myself then. I think Seiji and I would have been friends and while I find you someone I no doubt would enjoy a…healthy debate with our circumstances do not allow it. You are Endou and your Clan is the leader of one of the Mizukage's main detracting factions.

"Friendship between us would indelibly involve Aoitsuki and Endou in the struggle. I'm sure you can guess how much I disapprove of the idea."

Endou quickly composed himself, letting the affable man disappear in favor of Endou's Clan heir. "Another pretty notion. How much longer do you really think Mizu's factions are content to ignore Aoitsuki and the very pretty resource it represents? You would need allies to just keep afloat."

Blue eyes darkened slightly and under the indoor light, Endou could almost swear Aoitsuki's eyes shinned with something…feral.

"An ally Endou would no doubt considering becoming…for the right price." Naruto was quick to dismiss.

"So you mean to go it alone?" Endou wondered. The notion while odd would have been something he would have dismissed completely if he'd never met the man behind it all. Seeing him, talking to him, Endou was startled to find he was starting to believe Aoitsuki Naruto could navigate Mizu's political waters well enough to succeed by himself.

"Is that a gamble you think you can win?"

And Naruto finally gave him a completely true smile—sharp and wild. "I don't gamble for a reason. It's no fun if you always win."

Despite himself Endou smiled. "If you really mean to do as you say I will tell you this—the Endou Clan will not move against you but we will not help you either. Your fate is what you make of it."

"Thank you." Naruto said reading something in Endou the younger man wasn't even aware he was betraying. "I know there will be a time when physical force will be required. I have no intention of using my wards as my own soldiers. I have no intention of involving my House in politics. When they come…I'll just make sure my rejection is loud enough for all of Mizu to hear."

Endou bowed slightly. "I wish you all the luck."

Naruto did not move to stand as Endou was led out by Sayako. He remained gazing at his cold tea long after the man had left his property.

_The axis of calamity smiled. _

**S**

**25 June 2009**_  
_

**S**


	6. Chapter 6

**S  
**

**In Which A Man Begins to Wake...**

**S**

It came fast, a feeling as fierce as the tides that came with the moon.

The feeling had been there for a while. But out of the ordinary things rarely made themselves known clearly, so for a while all he had was a feeling.

_Something was changing._

A nameless, almost unobtrusive anxiety settled deep in his gut. It was an ache that had nothing to with his hunger or the nearing confrontation with one of Mizu's more foolish factions (they would have to be foolish to strike with so little intelligence on him).

It remained with him even as he immersed himself in other matters.

In the days following his first talk with the heir of the Endou Clan, Endou Seiji, Naruto never made known the contents of their discussion though he was watched a tat more in anticipation for the expected results. But the results were anything but expected.

A simple civilian orphanage director with at most five_ jounin_ level shinobi at his call should have folded under the first outside political push. It was the way of Mizu, where everything with a trace of power was corralled to something more powerful.

The obvious did not happen.

Endou Clan made no effort to link itself, physically or politically, to Aoitsuki. There were neither the obligatory Endou shinobi patrolling the Aoitsuki compound nor offers of training to the Aoitsuki orphans. There were no backdoor deals or hidden motives. It was simple. So simple it took the better part of a mont for anyone to say so with any modicum of certainty.

The Endou Clan and the Aoitsuki House remained unaffiliated.

For one reason or another, the Endou Clan, which never made secret its ambitions, willingly turned away from the lucrative prize that was Aoitsuki. Older and wiser watchers concluded Endou was merely waiting till Aoitsuki was made submissive by the costly efforts of a third party before swallowing it up. In truth, that was not an altogether inadvisable strategy. While common sense dictated it was more costly to engage an established armed faction instead of an unallied orphanage that wasn't the real problem. The true cost would be reaped in intel; what was known and the price of what remained unknown.

Because by now everyone was in accordance with one thing.

Whoever made the first push against Aoitsuki would be the first to discover what kind of armed resistance the orphanage had at its disposal. Mizu, for all of its bloody history, knew one thing: Unknown factors rarely turned out in anyone's favor.

Naruto could only wait.

_Calamity churned beneath the illusion of normality._

It wouldn't be long now.

_There is greed on men's lips._

**S**

Secrets may be secrets, but shinobi were still shinobi. Naturally, the first is in direct conflict with the second. And logically Naruto should have expected what followed…Only somehow he didn't.

It was simple in his mind.

It was a waiting game, played on the edge of a kunai, between him and some nameless face. They would come for him. The first strike would be loud and blunt, meant to scare more than kill (at least not yet). It would be made to impress.

But there was more than one magician on that stage. And Naruto—no matter the lifetime—always aimed to impress like no one else dared.

He would never (not anymore) be anyone's caged weapon.

_Endless fury made to play a child's doll._

_What did you expect, giving a child that cursed toy?_

_He burned under red clouds and black skies._

He knew, even if he didn't, the game of force to be played. Enough and not enough—an edge to balance on. He was shinobi (even if he no longer called himself that) or maybe just beaten enough to know not to give any information for free. What would come would be a game with just enough power and skill to let it be known that while there was still an aspects of his skill veiled, disclosure was not in anyone's future health.

It was simple.

But he'd forgotten one thing.

Shattered and barely functioning, he'd first built Aoitsuki House for children he could only distantly imagine. When he did find them, he did something he probably wasn't healthy enough to do: He loved them.

But he'd forgotten.

They loved him as well.

Naruto didn't know why his eyes burned. He was definitely too old for that shit.

_They_ loved him.

They _loved _him.

They loved _him_.

Him.

He, who was born alone, lived alone, always walked alone. The only time he hadn't fought alone was when he was still not powerful enough to execute wide-scale attacks (after that it was less dangerous to maintain a healthy distance from him and his current target.) About the only time he didn't tackle some milestone alone was his execution.

_Akatsuki had watched till the end. _

_An ember without fire._

And somewhere along the way—in his half-insane plan so that a few children would not be as alone as he (_and snow-soft Haku_), he'd been given the same gift as his children.

They weren't alone. Not them, not him.

_And no matter what anyone said, his eyes only itched._

It was only five of them, but those five represented all that mattered.

Watanuki Ren. _Jounin_, specialized in reconnaissance and tracking; age 21.

Yutaka and Genji, eternal rivals and never far from the other. Respectively specialized in _genjutsu_ and heavy combat. Their rivalry allowed them to flawlessly substitute one set of skills for the other. _Jounin_; age 20.

Yamamoto Hikari. _Chunnin_, specialized as a med-nin; age 15.

Ishiro Etsuo. _Gennin;_ age 13.

To an outsider they weren't anything special besides the obvious (Yutaka and Genji were known Bloodline-born, the half-blood relations of some clan or another). But Naruto knew things which traditionally only another Mizu shinobi should know.

In the four years Renji had officially been assigned to the intelligence division he had been making a name for himself on talent alone. Already rumors (the lifeblood of Intelligence) pointed to Renji as a possible successor to the current division head (and the youngest candidate chosen so far).

Yutaka and Genji had the distinct honor of becoming the figureheads for other bloodline-born (not all belonged to Aoitsuki) of their generation. They were heading the reintroduction Mizu's nearly destroyed bloodlines and acting to dispel the uncomfortable (if not outright prejudiced) notions held by their comrades. It also helped they were both good-natured and geniuses of their discipline.

Soft-spoken Hikari was the de facto mother and herder of a large portion of the Aoitsuki _chunnin _and_ gennin_. Early signs pointed towards a specialization in poisons (ironically in direct contrast to her early exposure to medicinal herbs from Naruto's greenhouse, or maybe because of it). Her growth was made difficult because of the near impossibility in procuring an apprenticeship to even a half-rate medic-nin. It was an area of study that came with a long apprenticeship and because of the greater number of years involved there was also a greater risk of the teacher dying before imparting a full set of skills. It was not a popular area to pursue in turbulent times.

Likewise, Ishiro Etsuo was not only the squad captain of a team of all _gennin_, but the leader of more than half of his _gennin_ year mates. He was predicted to advance in the next Chuunin Exam, having been withheld in order to make a showing the year the exams were to be held in Konoha—

_Forget. Forget. Let it fade._

—He was also a throwback to Mizu's silent killing and, had the Seven Swordsmen still existed, slated to inherit one of the legendary blades (not that he was old enough to have actually ever seen one of those blades in action).

Naruto knew (_he knew_) that though none of them had the character (_honor and fortitude and ruthlessness beyond the norm_) to become Mizukage, each had the potential of becoming leaders among their peers, and not just their Aoitsuki brethren. Each had the potential to be a cornerstone for a true Mizukage (_the likes they are all still waiting for_).

He knew all this about them (knew more than they actually did about themselves) but none of that prepared him to find them tucked all over his office (a room he didn't keep anything he didn't want stolen).

Somehow or another, he hadn't been as prepared as he should have been when one of his children directed him to this impromptu meeting. Prepared to face his children.

His brilliant, beautiful children.

_Maybe there was reason enough to want to cry._

_He'd forgotten._

"You all realize that I'd prefer whatever mutiny you've all planned to involve a little more blood and ramen and a little less of this office?" His greeting earned him one faint smile and two scowls.

"Sensei this is a perfectly acceptable office. Now if only you'd use it..." Yutaka chided.

Naruto snorted at his boy. "You're still sore I made you move all the furniture in here before I decided I didn't like it."

"That desk was a heavy-ass monster," Genji muttered mutinously. He and Yutaka had been made to furnish his ill-fated office.

"Think of it as a training exercise," Naruto corrected cheerfully. Even Yutaka looked a little sour at that.

Ren and Etsuo simultaneously rolled their eyes.

"Sensei," Hikari said, patiently smiling (_a soft fondness in her eyes always Haku-bright. Memories still ached_). "If you could stop antagonizing Genji-san long enough for this meeting to begin?"

Naruto ruffled his boy's wild blond hair fast enough that Genji didn't escape fully as he backtracked into Yutaka's shadow. Hikari leveled a look on them all that more than one person had admitted to being unfairly guilt-inspiring.

Naruto smiled unrepentantly even as he settled back down. "Sorry, Hikari. I'll behave. Now…What seems to be on your mind?"

And suddenly the indulgent faces of his children faltered. Etsuo glanced at him before looking away, but the other four silently impressed Naruto as they literally squared their shoulders and turned to face him.

"We're not deaf you know," Genji began. Naruto resisted the urge to smile; Genji had always reminded him a little too much of his younger self. "We're all shinobi of Mizu."

Ren—his quiet, intense dark-eyed boy—steeped forward. "We're all old enough to understand this House isn't as walled as we used to think."

Even Haku-bright Hikari looked a little sad at that. "Sensei, Aoitsuki isn't as insignificant as it used to be."

Yutaka didn't move from his perch next to one cloud-filled window. Sighing softly, he met Naruto's eyes clearly. "I think…Because we all wanted so much…because we didn't have much to begin with…we succeeded greater than we knew or maybe even wanted."

"We are products of our own successes and now Aoitsuki is going to be a victim of it," Ren continued. "A place that produced even just the five of us is tempting. But Aoitsuki produced more than just the five of us."

Naruto had been listening so far, but it wasn't till Etsuo's eyes flinched back that he realized just what his children had been trying to say. He wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh, cry, or rap some knuckles till they understood.

"Wait, wait, wait a moment. Let your old Sensei have a word." Naruto held up both hands before studying each of his children. "I've raised each of you for the majority of your lives and, honestly, each of you has always been a great deal smarter than I ever was—well perhaps not Genji—"

The boy sputtered in the background.

"—You really are all very brilliant. But you are all also still young. Guilt has a way of wrecking the most reasonable of situations. Misplaced guilt just mucks up everything more than it should ever be.

"I know what Aoitsuki has become—I practically hauled it there myself. I've watched it become what it is today and some of you are old enough to have done so as well. I have always been proud of what everyone has done—what all of you have done. Never believe that I or you would have been happy if we'd settled for being a shadow of who you really are."

Genji had never been content to remain quiet. "But now those scavenging politicians are going to come here and—"

A fierce huff escaped the boy as he broke of with a glower.

"They are going to come and take everything we have ever known and change it," Yutaka finished and despite his calm tone there was something mutinous in his eyes.

"They are going to come and take Aoitsuki from us." _From me_. Etsuo finally whispered, guilty eyes not quite meeting Naruto's.

"I'd like to think I didn't raise children with such frail spirits." Naruto said and even as Etsuo looked taken aback there was something more to Ren's expression. "Aoitsuki is not so easily bought or sold."

"It doesn't matter to them that it's Aoitsuki this time. Buying, selling….burning. It's been done before," Yutaka pointed out.

"Normally shinobi politics like these should have been played above the heads of civilians," Ren informed them all—Watanuki Ren, the Intelligence agent. "It should have fallen to me, the other_ jounin_, or even these twin attack dogs."

Genji growled.

"But Sensei…" And Ren, whose deductions could have made Nara Shikamaru bring out his shogi set, looked admiringly at his foster father. "You…Not even the Intelligence Division knows what you have been doing. Only I've guessed within the division and that's because I've watched you for years. Sensei, you've been managing Aoitsuki's politics, its every dealing, even yourself, to buy time. Aoitsuki should have come under attack long before I even made it to _Chunnin_."

Naruto ginned at his child.

Everything he'd done _had_ bought time. Had bought time and that's really all they've ever needed. It had given time for each of the children standing before him to grow strong enough to stand by themselves.

_And that is a miracle too many dead never knew._

_Eleven years and counting._

_Backs that will never have reason to bend in the deepest humiliation._

_They are not denied._

"It's our turn to do our part!" Surprisingly, it was Hikari that spoke the ultimatum.

"You've protected us so we could grow and now it's our turn to protect you and everyone else here who is our brother and sister."

Every other face looked just as fierce as Hikari's; the shared words an oath between them.

And Naruto really wanted to knock some heads, preferably those belonging to some silly children. Instead he sighed, mulling over how he should explain so they could understand. Even if he was feeling horribly proud of them at the moment.

"Ren...Let's see how much you've guessed." Dark-eyes perked toward Naruto. "I'm not trained as a conventional shinobi. Truthfully, if you ever tested me you'd find some _gennin_-sized gaps that would make Etsuo cringe. But I practice—have practiced—a chakra-heavy_ jutsu_ every day for over a decade. What do you think that means?"

"You have a, what I'm guessing to be, an extremely large chakra capacity. If I was to follow speculation, I'd propose this _jutsu_ is not the only one you know. And while I have never personally seen you practice any other, it is within the realm of significant probability that you possess other skills, either physical or equally chakra-intensive."

Naruto paused to admire his assessment. "That's very logical. While neither confirming nor denying anything proposed, why do you think I never sought to teach or even learn the Academy training techniques to either help you or myself? We all know children backed by some Clan or Faction are practically force-fed extra training. None of you have ever had that advantage. So why was it that instead of filling in that post myself—as I very well could have—I have always hired a _gennin_ team to lead the children's afternoon Academy practices?"

It was Yutaka who answered. "Sensei has never wanted to seem a threat. If anyone ever saw you teaching or learning, they would have suspected a lot earlier that Aoitsuki is really a training facility."

"But so long as only Mizu _gennin_ gave us extra training, no one could suspect you." Genji continued, having practically read Yutaka's mind.

"Also very logical," Naruto approved. "Now, why was I always careful? What did I want to protect so much that I protected my image even behind closed doors?"

They were silent before Etsuo blushed and admitted, "Us. You wanted to protect us."

Naruto merely grinned at the boy. "That has always been what I wanted. For Aoitsuki to be here so that my children could be children."

"Sensei," Etsuo felt fit to correct as he braced himself, "You've always protected us. So you can see, can't you? We want to protect you."

_Something in him trembled even as for an altogether silly reason his eyes burned a little. _It was that moment, staring from out of Etsuo's brown eyes, that a truth Naruto had never been wise enough to see hit him.

_They loved him._

He really was too old to cry.

"And I…" Naruto blinked a little faster than normal. "I am very proud of you for saying so." Bowing his head briefly before raising it to meet every pair of eyes, Naruto continued more fiercely, "But this is Aoitsuki and Aoitsuki will not make personal soldiers of you. And before you start arguing, consider this: You might be willing, but in doing so you create an obligation for every child I have fostered. And even if they are willing, it is not a choice I wish to institutionalize into what we have built here.

"I appreciate that you all feel strongly about this, but this is another lesson you will all learn. There are times when it is right to fight and there are times when the wisest thing you could do is talk. There will come a time when we will have a Mizukage that understands the power of words and although that time is not here yet, it does not make that method any less valid.

"I expect you have heard about my meetings with the Endou Heir and the Mizukage and logically you feared for the results of those meetings. But it won't be them who pull us down. I've seeded too much doubt and hesitance in both of them for them to be willing to go after me preemptively. And because they will not move, I've spread hesitation among the ranks. I've bought more time."

"But there will come a time when Sensei can no longer buy a reprieve," Ren accused.

"That's correct," Naruto admitted frankly. "When that time comes, you must trust in my willingness to preserve Aoitsuki as the Aoitsuki you grew up in. I will do what I must to keep politics away from children too young to be making any such choices. I hope you understand that if Mizu is to ever be united, Aoitsuki cannot have its private soldiers."

The unhappy cast growing on their faces said more of their understanding than words could.

Scowling, Genji glared at the clouds outside. "Sensei, you know, sometimes it's very hard being an example."

Naruto eyed the boy unsympathetically. "Think of it as being a leader."

"That's not any easier," was the sullen reply.

**S**

When the time finally came, it was unsurprisingly sprung on what amounted to yet another ordinary day. They had been watching (_violet eyes watched back_) him for a while; certainly long enough to mark his routine.

Perhaps they understood the value of routine.

_(Even if a forgotten part of him chaffed under the predictability)_

Routine bred security for those that knew none. Shinobi bylaws teach one to break routine but even the best fall into habit. So it was with some assurance that the enemies' operation was planned. Every little piece of data gathered and hemmed into some all encompassing plan, meant to rebuff every futile struggle.

_Nine little dolls lined in a row_.

It was the end of the day. The last infant in his nursery had been fed, burped, and changed. The older children knew well enough when lights out began that there was no need for Naruto to leave more than one solid clone. The jutsu-creation settled at the front desk, sleepily reading some scroll or another.

An ordinary day.

The moment came when he moved through just another step of his routine. Caught at the furthest point from the compound buildings, he'd just begun to padlock the front gates—more of a deterrent to civilian vandals than any substantial threat—when they came.

Silent and hidden by shadow and everlasting fog. Sinewy in their hunt and moving on feet that knew full well the roll of predator.

But he lived in the illusion, reality remade.

No doubt they were skilled tacticians but even the best tactician could only plan so far with only half the intel needed.

This was no corralled board game, with fixed spots and unchanging potential.

Naruto played with a deck full of lying cards and mercurial ghosts.

In that existed a disparity no shinobi would ever have time enough to surmount on the first offensive.

Ninja wire and chakra strings cut through the wind without a whisper. Despite being an enemy, Naruto freely admitted whoever wielded those weapons could claim real talent. But their mistake was more a matter of luck than anything else.

They simply didn't know the wind was the last plane any enemy should want to face Naruto. What they could not know—what they didn't even have a chance of knowing—was the existence of darker days painted in howling wind and blood.

Days when he wasn't strong enough, wise enough, to win the heart-aching important battles. When all he could do was fail and retreat. But in retreating there was never any safe haven waiting. Between one impossibility and another he'd retreated to the only place he could and it came about that in the end too much of himself had fled into the wind.

He really didn't know how it had come about and while he suspected the destroyed Uzu no Kuni, he'd long since known the unavailability of _that_ answer. That land (_dirt ancestors lived and died and were reduced to dust_) and the mother (_may she be forgotten_) that carried that bloodline were all dead for as long as he'd been alive.

Many years later he lived in the wind as only nameless, forgotten ancestors once had. And Mizu's legacy of silent killing had always known the intimate coexistence it shared with the wind.

But they had never controlled it.

Not like he could.

So he knew, even as chakra and wire flew, that he controlled the wind it cut. He knew even as those implements wound around his body, jerking him towards the ground and muddying well-worn cloths, that their first attack was meant to contain.

Wire bit into his skin and chakra string hummed and burned but kept him deceptively immobile. From his position, he craned his head to side, darkened blue eyes searching the shadows for his assailant. Naruto knew more than enough than to trust the direction from which he'd been attacked. There was a reason Mizu was hailed as the star of silent killing.

It said something about Naruto's decade of inactivity and something about the skill of his assailants that he only had a heartbeat of warning before a gloved hand clamped onto the back of his neck. A strong hand titled his head back uncomfortably far so that he met a cloaked figure standing freely before him.

"So this is the famed Aoitsuki-sensei." Unseen eyes perused the bound figure on the ground in silent contemplation. "I have been waiting to meet you for a very long time…_Sensei_."

Naruto could not eye the shadowy figure for more than a moment before his neck became too uncomfortable. "If you wanted to meet me so much I'm not averse to having tea during a reasonable hour."

A booted foot ground into his lower back. Naruto grimaced and kindly wished his assailants joy for as long as they had him in their custody. Any time afterwards and he might react a bit…unfavorably.

"A comedian," a female voice mocked behind him. "They usually laugh right up to the point when they can't."

"Oh, my dear," Naruto blew into the dirt. "If you knew me at all…"

"Men…" A foot connected to his thigh. "What despicable creatures."

"Kingyo—now is not the time!" the first shadow commanded, a hidden glare silencing the female. "Now, _Sensei, _don't take this personally. We speak and you hear, understand? Keep it like that and this night might not turn entirely unpleasant for you."

"If you insist."

A hidden snort.

"Pay attention!" Something sharp bit into his bound upper arm; blooming in the night, the scent of copper rose.

"Your activities have come under the attention of…very powerful parties. Parties that have no wish to see any more instability added to Mizu. You, _Sensei,_ are far too much an unstable little man to be allowed to do as you wish without any oversight—"

"You expect me to accept this like a good little boy?" Naruto heckled.

Red and copper and silver bit into his shoulder. Briefly pain fluttered in his awareness

before fading.

_What use is a scar that does not exist outside the mind?_

_He's never had to know._

_Not anymore._

_Pain is fleeting._

"The parties we represent," the shadow continued calmly and unmoved, "Wish for you to accept the order of things. Make no mistake Sensei…Things can turn very ugly, very quickly."

Behind him the woman chuckled. "Personally, I would welcome it. Little man, we know everything about you. What you do every second of every day, what you eat, when you sleep…even when you shit. We know the name and face of every little brat you house in this hovel."

"So that's it?" Naruto sighed, resting his head against mud. "You threaten, I listen, and I'm expected to keep my peace or my children get hurt?"

"See?" the shadow acknowledged condescendingly. "That wasn't so hard."

"And who exactly am I expected to obey like a dog?" Perhaps they should have been more wary of his calm tone.

"Oh now, Sensei, that isn't something you'll be knowing. You will know to do what when our backers need you. Do so and your peace and that of Aoitsuki House is insured. Understand this: Mizu can become very unfriendly to a foreigner who thinks he can do as he will."

"And who will be coming to yank my chain whenever _kami_ wills it?"

"Clever little man, aren't you?" the woman chided before booting him in the stomach. (_Pain is an illusion within a dream_). "There will be no information fishing from little men."

"You can call me Inu-san and my partner Kingyo-san. Do as we say and this will be the only unpleasant visit. Resist and we will have to teach you obedience…Through any means possible."

Naruto craned his head back and stared up at Inu, the perfect picture of a cold and unnaturally calm interrogator while the woman at his back acted (and perhaps it wasn't even an act) as the rabid attack dog. It was definitely an unfortunate occurrence that the heavy clouds prevented the two shinobi from cataloguing darkened blue-violet eyes.

It would have been helpful if they had.

_Pressure built up in hidden designs._

It might have served as a warning.

"Inu?" Naruto asked pleasantly, grinning in a fashion that had too many teeth. Inu stiffened more on instinct that anything else. "There's something you should know."

_Chakra and order; spirals and command—the body is a puppet and he is a master_.

Two dull thumps scarcely gave an echo as they impacted. Squirming and untangling the suddenly slack net of ninja wire, Naruto emerged from his little prison. Once free he collected the wire (waste not, want not) and turned to study his once-captors.

"Inu, was it?" The cheerful greeting was lost on its unconscious audience. "I wanted to tell you—I dislike dogs."

"Now let's see what little surprises Inu-chan and Kingyo-chan have for me." Deftly Naruto freed one of their kunai to cut the cloth that bound their faces in shadow. He was careful to not cut either of his sleepers (one never knew what enemy shinobi coated their weapons in).

Two bemused violet-blue eyes peered at the uncovered faces. "Look at what I have here. Aren't you lucky I recognize you, my little lost lambs? It means I can properly return you. Not to worry—you'll both recover in a week or so—but perhaps you'll now know not to attack me on my own territory."

A flick of his hands created three shadow clones at his back. Without a word they moved toward his sleepers. Two of them knelt and hefted the lax bodies on their shoulders while the third gave him a thumb up before moving to lead the way to the Higa dwelling.

Of course Naruto knew not to stop his investigation with Higa. Behind that family lay the Arakaki (a name he disliked on principle) Clan. The origins of his assailants mattered only as much as they led him to who ordered the first strike against him.

Perhaps they should have been a little wiser than to attack a Seal Master on his own territory.

His compound had long since been inscribed and imbedded with the necessary seals (not that anyone recognized it as such). Any unwelcome presence that threatened his grounds was liable to fall under his seals.

As those two unfortunate ninja had just discovered.

Special seals were designed to send a near unnoticeable electric shock, refined to disrupt the electrochemical signaling between neurons responsible for sensory reception. The instant sensory saturation and abrupt withdrawal was designed to send the nervous system into shock. His captives' exposure would result in a relatively harmless week-long coma.

Another Seal Master might awaken them earlier, but the likelihood of someone recognizing their condition for what it was and furthermore having the chakra to overpower the secondary seals inscribed in their chakra by his own master seal was small. In a week the natural regeneration of an individual's chakra would erase his seal sufficiently for the body to overcome his block.

Sometimes even he impressed himself.

Absentmindedly patting the now ruined knee-length tunic he'd worn, Naruto finally padlocked the door. He'd been interrupted long enough.

The walk back to his apartments was dark but familiar enough that he did so without stumbling. Pausing, Naruto titled his head to one side before leaving the front gate courtyard entirely.

"Yutaka...and Ren." Naruto smiled into the night as if he hadn't just caught two people spying on him. Soft footsteps confirmed his guess.

Despite a childhood grudge against geniuses, Naruto had always admired one thing about them: They were always entirely able to arrogantly remain without shame when caught.

Two sets of dark eyes studied him like they'd never seen him before. Regardless, Yutaka continued walking till he was close enough for Naruto to only have to raise an arm and he could hug the young_ Jounin_.

He had no qualms about doing so.

Yutaka tolerantly allowed the nearly eye-level man to corral him into a half-hug.

"What are you two doing out at this time of night? Finally getting a love life? I'll advise you two now, only go after girls whose father can't break every bone in your body. There might be no kinder way to die than like that, but it'll still hurt."

"_Sensei_!" was the put upon protest from both his boys. Still so sensitive, Naruto inwardly chortled.

"You know that's not it," Yutaka protested. "What…What did you do?"

"I know you _two_ were just taking a random stroll and weren't hovering around me." Naruto ruffled the boy's hair as both failed to look at all convincing. Sighing, he continued, "I already told you both—I won't be turning Aoitsuki into my own private army. Some rather unfortunate fodder learned tonight about just what I am willing to do to keep Aoitsuki as it should be."

"But this is only the beginning," Ren quietly said. Naruto had always believed any good group needed one pessimist. Ren always managed to fill the role admirably.

Naruto met his boy's eyes strongly. "It is only the beginning and I am in no way done. Trust in me Ren, Yutaka."

"We do trust you," Ren protested.

"But we don't want to lose you," Yutaka admitted.

Naruto gave a soft laugh. He hugged Yutaka first before releasing him and moving to hug Ren. To his surprise, Ren returned his embrace just as fiercely as he used to when he was nothing but a mute little boy attached to his hand.

"I don't play fair," Naruto confessed.

For two such solemn boys it was still somewhat surprising when they smiled back at him. It was almost like they could guess what previously unknown methods Naruto would soon engage in.

"Thank you," Ren murmured quietly before leaving Naruto to enter his apartment. The dark-eyed young man didn't say for what but Naruto didn't have to guess.

Home remained.

_Violet eyes slept. _

_(Crimson-bright eyes were blessedly forgotten/hidden)_

**S**

**15 July 2009**

**S**

**TBC...**

**Kingyo - ****goldfish.**

**BETA: Shadow Rebirth (thanks!)**

**AN: coming soon...some chapter changes. Do not be alarmed but I will be collapsing first three chapters into one. Does anyone actually want to read an authors note?...**

**Review Question: Pairings? Huh...Who knows. But if there is one it won't become a big cornerstone. It is also highly unlikely that it will be a main canon character because at this time everyone is in their late twenties (28?). While not too old I would think everyone would have started settling somewhat down. Again, highly unlikely but not completely impossible.**

**Ciao little lambs.  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**S**

**In Which A Man Remembers Calamity...**

**S**

The first shadow attack on his person came and went without trouble. If perhaps there was a new tenseness on his little watchers…Well, it was only to be expected. Events continued as they always had.

His watchers noted the near infrequency in which his actual body left his compound; something that had never seemed all that important in the presence of an armada of clones. Most often either outside traders dealt directly on his property or his clones were send out on errands.

No further plan could be enacted at that time with any degree of success. Certainly not with so little information, the likes of which everyone fully acknowledged. It was also reluctantly acknowledged that the Endou Clan _hadn't_ been foolish in keeping their distance. Two rather unlucky ninja already discovered the impracticability of attacks staged at his home.

There was also a new level of consideration given to him. While before he had always been an admirably intelligent and savvy civilian, now a whole slew of people were forced to reclassify him. The skills he showed were shrouded in shadow (like any true professional), but the knowledge of their existence forced watchers to label him as unknown.

And Mizu had never been lucky when dealing with the unknown.

The greedy factions had no choice but to simmer in the background. Even they knew better than disturb the illusion of normality.

One civil war could be traced to just such an action. People bred on war are the most adept at recognizing it. No one could deny Mizu had done just that for over two generations now.

But still that unsettling feeling nestled at the pit of his stomach.

Whatever ominous star he was under had not retreated from him yet. Something odd still lurked in his future. Something that, even as ignorant of the events as he was, still inspired a feeling of…anxiety.

Good or bad remained to be seen.

But life continued and the year ended.

_In this there is hope_.

Aoitsuki House stayed out of debt, old students left to new homes—either as tradesmen or shinobi—and new orphans crept in through the Servants' Entrance.

Besides the construction of the greenhouse, no new additions had been made. But that summer Naruto could no longer avoid remodeling as the dormitories became full. The once grand master bedrooms of the Hoshigaki Clan had been reduced to full dormitories and even the smaller rooms that no doubt belonged to either distant relations or important servants where given as private quarters to two to four children at a time.

Given his skill with clones and the numerous hands available through Aoitsuki's residents, the new dormitory was completed in a matter of months. However Naruto could no longer avoid the truth: By the end of the next year, Aoitsuki House would be forced to refuse entry for the first time since its inception.

Something in him cringed at the thought.

_Six years old and already independent. A childhood denied._

Things were different. Naruto had knowledge and will enough to tackle any endeavor. He would no longer stand for being a spectator as life moved its course without him. He wasn't a helpless little boy whose home denied the nature of his existence.

He wasn't.

And he knew how he could alter life's path.

All it took was a step.

Well more than a step to be honest. It did take three hours travel by shinobi sprint, or a day for a civilian cart, to reach the village of Shinge.

Shinge was smaller than Mizu—roughly one fourteenth the size of the metropolis Mizu represented. Besides being one of the many outlying farming communities that fed Mizu, it had two claims to fame.

The first was its location as the burial and death place of Matsuyama Shiomi, one of two Swordsmen of the Mist that did not defect and the only woman included in the last generation of the illustrious group.

After the breaking of the greatest generation of Swordsmen, the group that had served Mizu since its inception was never recreated. More than half of the swords that represented the group left with the defectors and only one was ever recovered in the time since. As such, Shiomi remained the first and last woman to serve as a Swordsman of the Mist.

Perhaps it was unlucky for Shiomi to remain loyal.

Five years after the breaking of the Swordsmen, Shiomi would be killed in one of the nameless conflicts that defined Mizu's civil wars. Consequently, she was also the first to die in her generation of Swordsmen. Her home in Shinge would be the site of her death. Afterwards, her sword was taken from her body and framed with the only other brother-blade the Mizukage still held.

Shinge's second claim to fame was the exact reason Naruto's attention was first caught by the sleepy community. Most outlying farming communities could at most claim a mid-sized home as the height of opulence. However, nearly fifty years ago a daimyo had thought his legacy everlasting. With that thought in mind, he'd embezzled a good amount of money to fund the construction of a compound that would become the seat of his line. Unfortunately, that lofty dream and line only extended till his son ran into gambling difficulties.

The compound was sold to some upstanding family and resold throughout the years. The sad reality remained that anyone with enough wealth to maintain the daimyo's compound was not inclined to settle in Shinge. Becoming more of a novelty than anything else, the increasingly unkempt compound was even at one time the home of Matsuyama Shiomi.

It was also one of the initial prospective sites for Aoitsuki House. It was merely a matter of fate that it wasn't until only last year that the owners' own difficulties were forcing them to liquidate their acquisitions. The money required and the unique location of the compound dissuaded most interested parties.

But for Naruto's purposes it was ideally suited.

The establishment of a second orphanage would be an even greater production than the first, especially since it would be built along slightly different lines. Aoitsuki's own beginnings were kept simple due to the larger population's indifference and his own solitary work.

Shinge House would be an event on par with an entirely different organizational process. It wouldn't even be an orphanage in the traditional sense. No children younger than thirteen would be residents. Naruto still felt his unique method of child rearing was so far the most effective. He had all the hands in the world to do what he needed to do.

To begin with, the compound had to be remodeled and refurnished. He had to canvas through his older children in order to mesh together a suitable staff for Shinge House. While Aoitsuki House would remain his primary residence, the distance involved to Shinge would mean a stretching of his attention. He would need to promote a similar staff for Aoitsuki.

Shinge House also represented the introduction of an idea he'd meant to develop further. Limited space prevented Aoitsuki's greenhouses from expanding. Shinge would therefore be designed as a center for the production of potent medicinal herbs, those studying them, as well as other forays in the medical fields. A school for all intent and purposes.

Construction on the project began mid-fall and was hurriedly completed so that the interior remodeling could occur during the wet winter and spring seasons.

But in the midst of all that planning, Mizu's traditional year ending celebrations brought travelers from all around for the week long festival. It also reminded Naruto just how fragile his reality still was.

_Calamity had never left him._

**S**

The spirit of revelry was present days before the festival truly began. Mizu as a whole was met with an influx of travelers and traders. Wares were brought and showcased in the week-long open air Market.

Despite the festivities, Naruto endured what he imagined every parent learned to recognize as parental anxieties. He, more than anyone, knew how tempers could be brought to a boiling point in a matter of minutes. A mob was capable of things no self-respecting individual would consider.

That didn't mean Aoitsuki House was at all isolated from the goings on around. His children had as much right to indulge in celebrations as any citizen of Mizu. The increase in comings and goings also meant visitations from children who had already left him.

It was one such visit that gave Naruto a truly horrible revelation. Ironically, the visitor in question, a girl named Mei, was one of the sweetest girls he knew.

Mei, sweet and kind, married a new farmer who settled in one of the abandoned plots that still surrounded Mizu. She was pretty as only a country-girl could be. By the time Naruto saw her again, she had grown a little plumper and rosier, but that is not what had him staring.

In her hands a curious bright-eyed infant made futile grapping motions. The boy couldn't be older than a few months and his arrival, by mere sight alone, was a definite pleasure to Mei and her overeager farmer-husband.

Mei and her husband bowed in greeting when they arrived, her deference obviously passed on to the man she married.

"We hope the festivities have treated you well, Sensei."

"As well as they ever do, Mei. Now introduce me to these two young men—it's been, what, three years since you wrote you were getting married."

Mei blushed. "My husband, Ogawa Touya."

Naruto bowed back in greeting.

All three were dressed in decorative kimonos and it seemed the only right thing to do. It was about the only time in the year that his grey and tan tunics and pants always seemed to be misplaced. Instead, in what apparently was someone's idea of cute, he would spend the week dressed in all shades of blues.

Mei and Touya were likewise dressed. It was obvious even under the courtyard's shade that the two wore plainer garments, lovingly preserved for years of special occasions. They were probably poor and frugal, but even as he leaned over to kiss Mei's brow, Naruto could sense determination and so much _life_.

"I am very happy for you both and although my congratulations come late, I wish you both a prosperous future."

"Thank you Aoitsuki-sama." Touya grinned and blushed. "I-I am very glad to finally meet you and I would like to personally thank you for all you have done for Mei. I am very happy to have met her."

Naruto grinned helplessly at the besotted couple.

"Sensei, we're also in Mizu to register our son with the Central Administration Office. The Ogawas—Touya's family—do not name their children till they reach six months. My son is now seven months and I would…I would like it very much if you could name him."

Seeing Mei stare up him with such a hopeful expression, the only thing Naruto could do was reach out for the child and control the blush that was threatening to rise.

A soft body curled up toward him, hands fisting in bright blond hair that remained unbound to match the formality of his clothes.

A child, a boy, and eventually a man. Son of Mei, the girl that only cried desperate sobs under an ancient maple tree. A child…A future; a future that was not there the first time he saw Mei.

_A future that lives now._

"Kaimu," Naruto blessed, fingers tracing a pattern he'd only ever seen his old teacher (_bittersweet memories ached in remembrance_) use once when blessing a similar child.

"Kaimu."

The child gurgled.

Touya's hands rose to take the boy, eyes fastened to the sight of the newly-named infant. "Ogawa Kaimu."

Luckily for Naruto, Mei was the only one crying when she leapt to hug Naruto. "Thank you Sensei…! Thank you for a lot of things I probably don't understand yet. But I will."

Mei kissed his cheek. "I will. I'm a mother."

"You are," Naruto confirmed more to himself than anyone. Idly he wondered if this is how a parent felt when their child suddenly became an adult. Pride and a bittersweet ache nestled in his scarred heart.

Mei's hands were still on his shoulders when they moved to trace his face. "I'm very happy, Sensei. You look just like you did the day I came here."

"Good bye and thank you!" Both waved as they closed the compound gates.

Naruto remained standing where he had been, hand frozen to the same spot Mei had touched.

"Yutaka!"

The boy leapt down from one of the many courtyard trees, deftly landing two feet to his left. "Sensei?"

"Can you call Kana out here to greet any well-wishers? I think I need to lie down for the rest of the afternoon."

Yutaka paused, warily eyeing the blond man for any trace of sickness. "As you wish."

Naruto didn't wait for either. Only years of patience kept him from dashing to his apartment.

For the first time since he moved in he locked his room, the ancient lock creaking slightly as it was forced into activity. Entering his bedroom, he drew the shutters close, letting only a sliver of weak winter light in. He turned the lamp next to his dresser mirror on and for the first time in years studied his reflection.

The man that looked back at him was impressive. The eyes were always the first thing anyone ever noticed—blue as the ocean under the summer sky. Blond hair was unbound and loose down to his mid-back. Dressed in a layered kimono, every shade of blue included and finished off with an elaborate design one of his girls had gifted him.

But the man…There were signs of maturity not present the first time he moved into his apartments. There were other changes; obviously longer hair and more practical and conservative clothes. His eyes had also gained a depth they didn't used to have.

But the man…

If those things were taken away, one by one peeled away from his superficial dress…

The man that looked back at him…had not aged.

Slowly, so slowly he wasn't sure till his knees hit the wooden floor, Naruto crumpled. Why was it so hard to catch his breath? Air whizzed in and out and somehow coming too fast and never enough.

Why couldn't he catch his breath?

Hands folded over his mouth, breath still not enough as it warmly caught in his palms.

_Please stop._

He didn't notice when his eyes screwed shut.

"_The world will change forever." Red clouds and black skies whispered down to him._

_Die now._

_It's alright to let go._

_You did everything you could._

Hands fisted into blond hair and pulled.

_Wake up now._

He tasted blood as he bit his lower lip. Warm red and copper scent surged over his chin and already the imprint was knitting without even scabbing over.

_Wake up now._

Mei and Touya and Kaimu and many more. A girl that became a woman and then a mother and would one day be a grandmother. Touya, ambitious and young and an idealist farmer that would make a home for everyone that called him father. A son that would grow and father his own boy and then another.

_Live for now and forget the red dreams and black skies. _

_There is this now—no fire and forest to ruin it all again._

_Wake up now._

Grow and live and one day, you too, will die warm in a bed.

_Wake up now._

Why were his memories shouting?!

There is a boy with six-scars (_gone now_) on his face, bright and grinning and so desperately alive. He lives a death sentence (_a father's gift_) and burns every day for every moment.

A boy who wants everything—power, pleasure, pain…It is merely proof that life still lingers.

"_The world will change forever." Red clouds and black skies whispered down to him._

Not right…

That dream had no right to come to life again. It was over. He made it so.

_Wake up now._

Why were his memories shouting?!

"_Believe it!"_

But that was also wrong. Bow and burn incense, but there are no gods he prays to. Lofty figures that turned away when man dealt with demons they had no right in touching.

He did not have faith, not in any god and not in any predetermined design.

Gods that looked away.

_Red clouds and black skies._

_Wake up now._

_This…is not a dream._

He did not need the mirror. The image would not change with a second inspection.

It might be a very long time before it changed again.

The man looking back at him…had not aged.

_Calamity was born in the wake of red clouds and black skies. _

_Men that played gods and shared the divine fate of twisting every well-meaning intention._

There was no monster chained as a servant. No summons that belonged to nine dead men. There once was…one such creature. A howling, glowing, maddening Sealing Beast that broke under Calamity. An existence that was powerful and destructive and useless in every way that mattered.

_Calamity cut and cried and tore the union of man-made divinity from this plane._

Why had his sentence never ended?

He could not hide from it any longer. Twelve years were long enough.

"_Unnatural," a woman had once whispered to a four year old boy, blond and blue-eyed._

_The first memory in a life made of extremes._

Though it slept, Calamity had always existed; lived in every waking breath.

He knew that now.

But still…

"Wake up now," he cried softly, mouth pressed to the wooden floor.

It was not a dream.

**S**

Perhaps it said something dubious of a character that it could break one night and continue duties the next. Perhaps it said something of the character's instability to be able to suffer through a fracture and then play the role of a perfectly functioning man.

Perhaps.

But no one was really any the wiser. Besides, he'd always been remarkably (_unstable_) adept in continuing when he needed to continue. It also helped that distractions were far and numerous.

Always something to do.

Always.

And then on the third night of the festival he woke an hour after midnight and suddenly that anxious feeling in his stomach (festering for nearly a year) was gone and he knew what needed to be done. That ominous star had finally answered him.

He could deal with that.

He found Kana and Izumi playing poker (and losing) with two of his shadow clones. They were at the dormitory's front desk, still awake and dutifully seeing to the night watch.

Izumi saw him first (the shadow clones having decided to ignore his presence). "Sensei? I though you only created two clones for the night?"

"I'm not a clone."

The girl blushed and leapt to give him a bow. "Ah. Sorry, Sensei."

"Don't mind me Izumi," Naruto waved it off. "I need to tell you both something: I must leave right away. I've already created some clones that will help you out during the day. They should last till I'm back."

"Shouldn't you call in some of the shinobi to stay here or accompany you, Sensei?" Kana questioned.

"Uh. Not really. I'd rather not attract any attention. If all goes well, no one should know I left and came back.

"How long will you be?" Izumi asked but both girls looked equally worried. Despite knowing of the rumored protections that defended Aoitsuki, everyone was always infinitely more at ease knowing that Naruto was there.

"Depends on how stubborn the person I'm going to see is. At the latest I'll be back the last day of the Festival; plenty of time to mix in with all the travelers."

"If you say so."

"Till then, Kana, you are in charge." The woman nodded decisively. Naruto studied her briefly before returning her nod. This would be the first time she would be in charge without Naruto there. Glancing at his clones, which had so far remained impassive, and knowing without a doubt they would harass the clones he'd just created for information, he added, "Don't beat the girls too badly."

He knew himself.

"Why?" one muttered mutinously. "You do it all the time, boss."

Naruto grinned helplessly under two feminine glares. "Anyway, I'll see you later."

"Safe journey, Sensei," Kana said.

Naruto left the dormitory building, pack already waiting. Pausing, he glanced at the shadowy branches of the courtyard trees. "Take care and behave Yutaka, Nariaki."

"Safe journey, Sensei," the leaves whispered back.

His figure faded into the shadows; the wind whispered and he was gone.

**S**

It didn't look anything like it had a long time ago. Years of natural growth had hidden pocket marks and _jutsu_ scars (_powerful and deadly forces were flung around with only one goal_). The area now was indistinguishable from the surrounding brush. It was now only a battlefield that lived in the memories of those that survived.

By all rights he wasn't one of those that should know the ghost of that battlefield. It wasn't his. He would neither be able to say who died nor who fought.

But he knew the graveyard. Knew it as the place where a legendary medic of noble birth proved how human she could be when she was broken.

And now, over a decade since he saw that legendary medic and even more since he saw signs of life in her eyes, he sought her shade. Something within him—something given freely—woke and recognized her once more.

Every beat of his heart whispered something forgotten.

So it was that more than a decade into his arrival in Kirigakure, in Mizu no Kuni, his feet moved and he did not resist their journey down a half-forgotten path. Even if it took him uncomfortably close to a land he was better off not recalling—

_Let it be forgotten. _

He did not know the battlefield, but he knew the land, knew miles and miles of sunlight filtered through brilliant green leaves. Knew the half-damp and heavy smell of brush that never truly dissipated from under an endless canopy. He knew it from memories that painted years of his life—memories he knew better than to think he was healthy enough to remember.

_Let it be forgotten._

That time has not yet come.

But this place and time was different and he remembered something else.

It does not hurt to remember. No condemning ache that hurts in all that is forgotten.

_Not everything was paid in blood._

Warm honey-gold eyes and a mane of blond hair. In his mind she was proud and fierce and defensive in her hurt but always bright. It wasn't her skills or looks that first caught and endeared his attention. No. What he noticed first and remembered always was how very much she was _alive._

_A pyre of rage and resentment and towering conviction._

He wasn't in the habit of playing what-if's and dreaming the probabilities, but even he couldn't quite stop the half-ache in wondering if it would have been different if only she'd been there.

Two years before his breaking—and a breaking was what he knew it to be—he'd lost her to an endless sleep. Death did not sever that bond (an event so common), but sleep still took her from him.

And now, past one life and into another, the leaves bloomed and his heart said something new. A battlefield he did not know under a canopy he'd never seen. But she was there.

She was there.

Bedecked in fallen leaves and stray dirt stains, she was no longer the princess of her youth (false or otherwise). She was a woman grown, broken, and remade. She was tired and still very week from her impossible awakening.

Pride and pig-headed stubbornness still ruled her because even as a woman, weak and nearly helpless, it was her right to lay like a forgotten queen (_because she too is Hokage_) on the forest floor and remember boys with blond hair who made her smile and will never come back.

She wasn't young nor was she hidden under an eternal youth illusion. She lay as she was—like any other white-haired, wrinkled crone of her youth (like the ones she never thought she'd become). As she rested there, gods knew only what bugs crawling into her hair, remembering blue eyes and dreams, she thought: _Let this be enough._

But despite their disuse, her senses were not completely deaf. That was why she heard the measured footsteps, light and sure like shinobi were taught to be. She may have been an old woman, but she was still a kunoichi that ended innumerable others, so she had no illusion of her prospects.

It was almost disappointedly appropriate that Tsunade of the Sannin should die a helpless crone. She was the last Sannin, a student of the Professor, to live and she would break tradition and not die for or because of a student.

There is a wistful peace as footsteps finally settled near her head and out of line of sight. Softly loose folds of cloth whispered as the person behind her kneeled. Light fingertips settle at her temple and yet still she knew no relief. Plenty of her compatriots needed only a touch to erase life. But it was only when her face was tilted back that she knew something else.

Tsunade could not name the feeling that ran all over her body, swift and sharp. Pain and pleasure; everything she'd wanted and everything that could destroy her.

It was like dawn breaking.

"Tadaima, baa-chan."

Blue eyes and sun-bright hair.

Two hearts found a piece thought lost.

**S**

**16 July 2009**

**BETA: Shadow Rebirth (thanks)**

**AN:...I got nothing.  
**


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Clarification: Tsunade was never dead and this is not in the past. She has been in a roughly thirteen year long coma, only recently woken, and depressed enough to break out of the Konoha hospital to travel to the same battlefield her brother died in and try to die herself—natural or otherwise. **

**Haku as a character is dead, killed in canon-fashion. Naruto as a lunatic is just fixated with that point of his life. Hence, this story.**

**S**

**In Which A Man Guides...**

**S  
**

Her body half-rose before folding on itself.

_Too weak_, Tsunade thought for the first time since awakening. Too weak when all she wanted was to hug and punch the man in front of her.

Everything she wanted and everything that could destroy her. Breathing and living, whatever he was—and she didn't really know if it was affection, hope, or even just a goal—but he really was all she needed to wake up from the half-dream she'd dwelt in ever since she awoke from her coma three months ago.

"They told me you died," she finally said through numb—had they always been so numb?—lips. Odd, she couldn't remember.

Naruto half-smiled at the entirely too complicated answer. "I think I did but…it's complicated."

A soft snort and Tsunade closed her eyes against the stray sunlight. "Isn't it always?"

Naruto sighed and folded his knees, content to study the older, smaller-boned version of a woman who'd been aunt and grandmother and leader to him. "For a legendary medic-nin you're taking shitty care of yourself."

Wrinkled fingers curled into a fist before falling slack. "I'd like to see you after a thirteen year coma. There's only so much physical therapy they can give a still body."

Blue eyes studied the light cotton shift Tsunade wore under her over robe. It was clear she'd stolen away from medical care. Only a hospital would assign something so sterile looking.

"If you had been anyone but the Godaime they wouldn't have kept you on life-support for nearly that long."

Tsunade felt oddly bemused at that statement, words entirely at odds with the memory of a younger, more naïve boy who'd just as soon fight rabidly against inevitable death as eat his next meal. "You've grown."  
An odd quirk tilted his lips. "Yeah, it's been a while." Naruto continued his observation. "Hey baa-chan, will you come home with me?"

"…Aren't I a little old for a boy your age?"

"…Shut it."

Tsunade, damp ground beneath her and brilliant green and gold canopy above her, could only close her eyes at the complete absurdity of the situation. Even she could tell she'd been depressed ever since her awakening. There were still people around that knew her and welcomed her but the knowledge that thirteen years separated their lives left her feeling like an outsider. There was something bitter—betrayed—in her the first time she saw a little girl with pale pink hair and green eyes.

It wasn't the first time she'd lost or given up a home. It wasn't even the first time she'd nearly died protecting it either. But she felt cheated all the same.

Why?

Why did she have to lose everything? Why did every piece of familiarity come with an undertone of alieness that made her bristle like an offended cat?

Why didn't she die thirteen years ago? Why didn't she wake fast enough to catch the lives of everyone that had left her behind?

Some part of her had half-wanted to die in this empty grove. Some part had wanted to close her eyes and let go of every ghost.

And funny that.

The ghost of a boy that had managed to goat her into one home was now inviting her to another.

Gold-brown eyes opened again to glance at the young man that had so far settled for gazing out at the surrounding brush. She wasn't used to this patience. At least his face didn't unsettle her as much as most everyone else had. He still looked like the boy she remembered.

…Still...?

"Naruto…" Slowly Tsunade pulled herself up, wrinkled hand ghosting along a smooth hand_. A boy's hand_. "Why...You're Jiraya's student! He was about the only one of our original cell that didn't try and cheat death…"

A soft laugh. "Its funny, isn't it? I really should have been Orochimaru's apprentice with how things came about. Baa-chan…I'm not a host anymore."

Naruto paused, feeling strange. It was the first time he'd said it out loud. This was the first time he talked about a time he could only remember under a red haze.

_(HowlingGrinningCrying)_

_Burning eternity trapped beneath human skin._

"It escaped—!"

"It was extracted, but you know, messing with demons couldn't be healthy for anyone. I died and then I didn't. I might have gone a little crazy but as a shinobi, it was bound to happen." He half-shrugged, half frowned, not sure exactly what he was trying to say. Finally he settled for the simplest answer. "I've given up that lifestyle."

"So that's why Konoha thinks you're dead? You gave up on being Hokage?"

"I really am like Orochimaru," Naruto admitted with a grimace. "There's always another way. I've given up on being a kage but that doesn't mean I won't help someone there. I don't know how but I'll see it a kage takes the seat."

Tsunade snorted. "Huh…I could never figure out half the crazy things you were planning. So boy, where exactly is your home?"

"…Kirigakure."

Both blonds eyed each other.

"As in the Bloody Mist? As in we've seen more civil wars than Mizukages?" Tsunade asked hesitantly. "That Mizu?"

"Ah… it sounds right."

Tsunade closed her eyes. "It sounds like you."

"Eh? What's that supposed to mean?"

She didn't know why she suddenly wanted to smile. There hadn't been many things that had made her smile. "Naruto…you haven't changed at all."

Blue eyes blinked owlishly. He thought he'd already admitted he had. "You do realize Konoha thinks I'm dead, I'm no longer a host, I've given up being a shinobi, and I might very well raise the next Mizukage?"

She merely smiled. "Idiot. As if any of that matters. You are still Naruto."

He shrugged content to let the old lady make her own delusions. "Whatever you say."

"…Idiot."

**S**

Tsunade never said anything and Naruto didn't ask again. They camped that night and neither made any mention of the battlefield turned burial ground that they settled in. Naruto had leaned in the time since he'd last seen the old lady that some things were better left unspoken.

There was no need to poke at scabs that were bitter and precious.

Next morning they started walking towards the sea. Tsunade always did have the bad habit of following Naruto home.

"Enough reminiscing. Naruto, have you seen a specialist of any sort? Seal, medical, or even just arcane?"

"…Arcane?"

"What? You're not exactly the first generation of hosts, though you're sealing was done more than a bit different than the rest. I don't think we ever did find record of the Kyuubi being successfully sealed."

"I didn't know that."

"As I recall you were never very interested in the details—or curious of anything outside your personal goals. The Kyuubi is infamous for more than just being the greatest demon."

"I was a kid, give me a break."

"And what about now? Aren't you curious about all the lore that surrounds hosts, demons, and sealings?"

"Ahh…" _(A dry cave and howling stone. Nine shadows and painted clouds. Let it end.)_ "Honestly, I haven't been stable enough to find out."

Tsunade paused their trek. She had a feeling Naruto was talking about more than just the odd fetishes and obsessive-compulsive behaviors shinobi found to cope with the lifestyle. From her side, Naruto's eyes were oddly shrouded—so differently from their childhood fierceness—and his whole body was tensed.

"Baa-chan…I don't think you understand; at least not entirely. I wasn't porn-writing crazy or gambling-addicted kind of crazy….

"….I died. _I died._ I don't know how Akatsuki functioned as well as they did for mostly being near immortal, but I didn't. I went crazy. Crazy as words have colors and one thought isn't necessary connected to the other. Crazy as in I made Akatsuki look sane—at least they were somewhat in touch with their version of reality. I don't think I even had that much.

"I've gotten better. Mostly nowadays I like to stay on the right sight of psychotic. I've never told anyone but for a few years it wouldn't have taken more than a paper cut for me to recreate a Mist-style civil war."

As a medic-nin, Tsunade had more than a suspicious of what state-of-mind someone as exuberantly extreme as someone with Naruto's traits could have fallen into. Someone who celebrated the smallest joys so fiercely was equally as likely as to be cut just as viciously by tragedies.

And how odd it was to find him now so tightly contained; restrained in a way that spoke more of veteran shinobi who had been conditioned to think their every touch was death in the making.

It wasn't that Naruto had gained introspection or anything like that in the ensuing years, Tsunade realized. Rather, he had gained a new somberness; an air of heaviness that had learned the consequences of actions.

It wasn't a beaten down weariness as some would think. No, Naruto had been—as odd as it was—refined.

"…And now? How to you explain your appearance?"

A half-smile twisted into a grimace.

"Tsunade…it's better if you do not pry too deeply into this."

"Naruto? What's wrong?"

"…What does it mean to be a _Jinchūriki_, Tsunade? What is sacrificed?"

"Naruto?"

"I am no longer a _Jinchūriki _but I never stopped being a human sacrifice. You shouldn't think about it any deeper than that, baa-chan."

Tsunade mulled the words spoken and maybe because she had spend a lifetime gaining skills necessary to save lives that she knew there was very little she could do.

There were always walls that no amount of scaling could over come.

She was no seals expert and her studies into the arcane—knowledge that could have pointed out signs associated with the Kyuubi's presence—was limited. She suspected whatever was going on within Naruto's body was far past the records kept from half a dozen other hosts and well into territory involving half a dozen gods. It should never be forgotten that besides sealing an unimaginable being of rage and power, the presence of the Shinigami was called upon.

There were more than a dozen possible reasons why Naruto remained ageless, and most could be traced back to some divinity. All were certainly associated with some inhuman power.

She didn't say anything when Naruto quietly handed her comfortable clothes—certainly less conspicuous than hospital gear—and pulled out a headdress of his own. Yards of cotton and wool patterned cloth wrapped around his head and came up under his eyes before falling to his chest in the front and even lower in the back. Wrapped as he was he looked very much like the Suna tribesmen or Snow villagers she remembered from distant missions.

Finally only his eyes remained bare and for the first time she realized his endless sky-blue eyes had changed. There was a darker tint to them. Most would say they were only a darker shade of blue but in the unprejudiced light she saw the truth. They gleamed purple.

Even a child knew what shade blue needed to make purple.

And most disquieting of all was the knowledge that he freely admitted to no longer being a host.

Knowing all this and suspecting a great deal more, Tsunade accepted for the first time that she had spent more than a decade in a coma. The world had changed and with it her precious charges had grown and become people she didn't entirely recognize.

But even as Naruto slowed his pace to match her's she knew it did not change a thing. She was too old and far too worn to undertake a conspiracy of divine origin. There was a sort of helpless peace that came with old age. Her greatest battles were already behind her.

"Where are we going?"

Naruto was startled enough to pause his steps. It had been a while since either had made an effort to talk. They both had too many things weighing their thoughts.

"Kirigakure to begin with; I've seldom left home in the last few years."

"What sort of business are you involved in?"

In retrospect, Tsunade should never have assumed it would be troublesome deciphering Naruto's body language once he started wearing his shroud. As it was, the way his eyes crinkled said more for his contentment than any grin could have.

And it was actually more honest than many of his grins.

"I run an orphanage—"

"Damn." There where many things Tsunade could have said, but that summed it all.

"Ah…yeah. The orphanage also serves as a primary school for younger children and trade school for older ones."

"I know Mizu's infrastructure has had some blows, but for their education system to collapse as well?"

"Not exactly. Honestly, the last five years have seen the most stability to Mizu in a long while. Of course that doesn't mean a civil war and new Mizukage is not due in a few years or so."

"But it almost sounds like you're isolating your orphanage."

"Necessity. Exactly what kind of strays did you think I would pick up?"

Tsunade smiled at the rather redundant question. "The only thing that would incite more controversy than a _Jinchūriki_ is a bloodline, especially with how Mizu historically views them."

"Yeah." Naruto shrugged carelessly, as though he hadn't started a one-man movement aimed at tolerance. "Hey, baa-chan, what do you feel about the name Kaori?"

"Kaori….Pretty? What now, you getting ready to name a child?"

"Well, not that I haven't done that many times, but I would think it wouldn't be so bad for you to become the first living kage a village actually lost."

"…Living?"

Naruto scoffed at a passing tree. "For a couple years, I actually saw more desecrated dead kages than living. It's almost a guarantee that if they're not burned—and sometimes even then—a kage's body will fall to grave-robbers, and not the type that are more concerned with worldly possessions over biological samples."

Unseen, Tsunade grimaced at his back. "I can live with being Kaori."

"Probably best."

Naruto thought about asking Tsunade all manner of other things. He wondered if she was content with leaving everything she knew—even if she was terribly out of date. He wondered if it wasn't mere rebelliousness that made her follow him back to his new home. He wondered if she had it in her to accept what he truly was. But mostly he wondered what the old woman at his back represented to the broken man he was.

"And second?"

"Huh?"

"Second," was the brisk reminder she gave. "First we would go to Kirigakure."

"Oh. Second. Well, hidden or not, it's a little too tempting to hide a former kage in a foreign military village. Especially at times like this…I'm currently involved in some delicate negotiations with certain parties."

The snort at his back was enough reply at his entirely frivolous estimate.

"Anyway, my trust is expanding into a smaller village. There's a new orphanage being built and I think it wouldn't hurt to acquire some experienced med-nin to take out their old age on a new generation." He tilted his head to eye her. "Oh my, look at my luck, here's one now."

"Call me an old biddy again and I'll hand you your spine," she grumbled. "…I've never been the most loyal of people and honestly the only reason I assented as far as I did was because of my power. But I can't in good conscience teach hidden techniques to people that might become my home's enemies."

Naruto liked selective deafness—both in dealing with children and in bottling things he was better of not remembering. "I doubt it will ever come to that. I'm mostly in the civilian sector of things—no way any of these shinobi would allow themselves to be treated by hands not personally vetted ten times over and I'm still too suspect for any of that.

"I'm sure you read super secret documents about Mizu's politics—"

"Thirteen years ago!"

"Mizu isn't exactly jumping into progress any time soon. There's enough paranoia bred into them that you can literally taste it in their breast milk….Speaking of that, I once heard a wet-nurse poisoned herself just so she could pass it on in her milk to some important heir or something to that effect. Living is a business to some, you see."

Her lips curled in disdain, but she remained silent. She knew Konoha had been lucky in its prosperity—even if her current company wasn't a complete beneficiary of that easy lifestyle. Her travels had shown her more than enough of the inhuman heights men would reach.

**S**

It said something about them when both Naruto and Tsunade had sneaked through tighter wound compounds than the security that surrounded Mizu. Especially when Mizu, having to contend with decades of instability, was more tightly wound than a war veteran.

Of course, most security seals that protected a village of any size were merely a matter of time for a Seal expert as good as Naruto to unravel. Mizu's chances dropped even further when said man had actually lived within Mizu for several years and managed to anchor his own Seals without disturbing the existing net.

"I am Aoitsuki Naruto," was all he said before their reentry. Once inside they drifted through the last day of celebrations, lost among the revelers.

"This way, Kaori-san."

It was nothing like anything she had been expecting. It dwarfed even Konoha's generous orphanages—and they were dutifully funded by a well-off Hokage's office—and looked something more a kin to a Clan compound. Even the walkway to what appeared to be the main building was lined expertly with trees and shaded by a delicately crafted arbor. It was all very artful and beautiful and not something she imagined could survive years of rambunctious children.

As a former teammate to both Jiraya and Orochimaru, she was sensitive enough to pick up the press of Seals that marked the boundary. They felt "heavy" as best she could surmise, a feeling she regularly took to equate with dangerous and likely very lethal. There was no doubt the Seals surrounding this orphanage were equal or even better than the ones that surrounded Konoha.

She'd always been too logical—a must in her own field—to advance overmuch with seals. She just wasn't made for the intuitive illogical leaps. That field was more suited to a porn-author and his ramen-loving student.

An idealistic part of her could only image what Naruto could had done as Hokage. What he could have been without the burden he was given. And while he would have kept his innocence—inborn human naiveties—longer, by the time he would have matured Tsunade did not doubt he would have been even greater than his father.

But life was tragic like that.

And now she had the feeling that, if asked, the man in front of her would not be able to deny hating his father for what he did and who he had been. Because even Tsunade, for all that she had loved him, had not been able to put Naruto above everything else. No one ever had. It was all that much bitter to realize that his own father had knowingly not chosen him; had chosen his people over his son.

In a way, she'd always been lucky to remain childless.

"Kaori-san? It's too late for there to be anyone up. I'll lead you to a bed for the night. Unfortunately, housing is tight right now, but there's a free bed in a private room. It will have to do for a few days."

"Ah…fine," she dumbly replied, a little startled by the sudden abruptness of his manner. A part of her still expected his youthful face to turn to her. A downside to his unchanging appearance: It made it harder to remember that the boy she knew had been a man on his own for many years now.

"This way; this is Rine Dormitory. It mostly contains private rooms for older civilians. A lot of them are on my staff or work within the village as apprentices."

The hallway was clean with surprisingly tasteful furniture decorated the wide passage. It all had an antique look to it and she realized it was probably a remnant from previous owners. It was an innocuous fact, but it made her realize whoever had inhabited this compound before did not have the chance to pack when they were evicted.

"Please wait a moment while I wake them."

A soft knock and even quieter click was the only noise made as the young man besides her disappeared into the open door, swift hands completely folding the headdress he'd first pulled down once they made it into the compound proper.

Tsunade was left idle, a flashlight in her hands pointed at the ground. Her sensitive ears picked up small noises even if the room's darkness left little visibility.

"…Izumi?" Cloth ruffled. "Wake up Izumi."

"…Huh…ng…"

"Izumi?"

"…Father…?" Was the sleepy rumble.

Outside Tsunade sightlessly starred at the opposite wall, her mouth dropping slightly.

_Father?_

"Where's Kana?"

More cloth rustled. "Ugh…night duty."

"Izumi, I need to house somebody. Do you mind if she uses the free bed?"

A soft click illuminated the room, spilling light into the dark hallway. From her spot Tsunade could finally see inside. Naruto knelt besides a bed with a young woman propping herself up, one hand shading her eyes. The room was larger than expected but considering the occupant was a woman, Tsunade could understand the improved accommodations. Two beds were placed against one wall, a night table between them while on the opposite wall another bed lay parallel. The room was lightly decorated with girlish touches here and there, hints of the two women that shared the room.

Izumi rubbed dazed eyes. "Fa—Sensei?" She frowned. "You're home."

"Un."

"Sensei…you're home!" Was the happy realization but just as fast the bright grin dropped. "Sensei…there's been trouble. Three of our boys have been accused of theft. Kana's delaying sentencing, but they're holding them in the City Watchtower. We're running out of procedural loops to run through…If they're sent to the prisons…"

Naruto ran a patient hand through Izumi's messy long red hair. Watching them Tsunade felt she had swallowed something heavy. Under the dim light, Naruto's blond hair glowed and while Izumi's red hair was not the exact same shade the similarity to another couple was jarring.

Tsunade breathed deeply.

That's were the similarities ended. Naruto and Izumi where not husband and wife. And though physically they looked very close in age, Naruto most likely had a heavy part in raising Izumi.

"I'll go to Kana right now." Naruto shifted to include her presence, his steady eyes very aware that Tsunade had been a silent observer in their private reunion. "If you could lend Kaori-san some bed clothes and help her settle?"

"Ah, sure, Sensei. Kaori-san, was it? I'm Izumi."

Tsunade, aware of the role she would play steeped forward and bowed slightly. "Please take of me."

"Go, Sensei. I'll take care of things here."

"Thank you. Goodnight Izumi, Kaori-san."

Ingrained training ensured Naruto made scarcely a sound as he retreated.

Izumi was used to dealing with all sorts of situations. It really was no surprise that within minutes Tsunade found her hands full of bed clothes even as the unused bed was being aired out.

**S**

"Those stupid little brats! I warned them all to keep away from the Eighth District. Idiots! Ugh, I've had a constant headache for the last two days."

Naruto didn't even glance at the annoyed woman, his eyes scanning various papers stamped with the Watchtower's logo. He understood well enough Kana had pushed herself more than normal and taken on burdens not normally hers. While a great test to measure Kana's fortitude and her place in Naruto's plans for Shinge, she was still too untried to take on Mizu's politics head on.

"You've been very creative in delaying," Naruto mused.

Heavy steps that had maintained a steady pace stilled. "Thank you Sensei, but honestly Ren-san was very helpful. He hasn't been able to help overtly because he said we should avoid escalating a civilian matter into one involving shinobi."

"Hmmm….that sounds right. For the time being, mutual force will keep things somewhat in check."

Kana sighed deeply as she flopped into a chair. "In check? As it stands the Watchtower will simply wear our request down. Those bastard shop-owners from the Eighth District are a rabid bunch. Stalemates don't work when one side holds all the cards."

"It's not going to pretty or neat or even entirely moral."

Kana looked away, the slump of her shoulders a throwback to the simple village woman she'd once been. "It really isn't their fault, Sensei. Those boys are mischievous, but they didn't do anything wrong. They didn't."

For the first time Naruto paused to look up at her. "I know, Kana. You shouldn't let it cripple you. They aren't all bad people, they just make bad choices."

"I know _that_. But you think we can forgive them like that? Just because they're too afraid of Haneda Yuya to stand up for themselves much less anyone else. I know that. I knew about Haneda even before I came here. And that small-time thug thinks he can drain us so long as he holds something over our heads. Idiot Sensei," she finished with a watery tremble. "What is justice? The Watchtower is just a silly name."

Watching her, Naruto felt a distant part of himself stir. He knew those tears that threatened to spill from Kana's eyes would have moved his younger self to shift the very world. But things changed. At best he was slightly sorry that he didn't have it in himself to be a hero.

Kana was a wonderful woman, strong and dependable. She didn't know it yet but she remained his successor for the Shinge House. And that was why instead of sending her away, Naruto would allow her to remain and spoil a little more of her basic innocence.

Because he did not forgive (did not have it in himself) and all the people that followed Haneda might have been innocent, but it did not change the fact that the moment they played this game they agreed to be his pawns just as much as they became Haneda's.

"Kana? I'll need several things ready for today. Wake Misao; we'll need some things from inventory."

"Ah…" Kana shivered. Some part of her was still a simple village woman, still young and willing to deal honestly. But she was smart enough to predict ominous storms. "Understood."

At eighteen, Kana saw a child die. Crying never did help.

**S**

Tsunade slept till mid-afternoon. She slept deeply and without dreams, tiredness other than physical finally finding respite in an unknown room within a hostile village.

A deep click finally woke her up and for a minute she didn't know what she was seeing. Finally she remembered. Izumi, the red-haired woman who during daylight kept her hair high and secured, had settled an earthenware bowl next to her bedside and a silver cup that was really too wide to be beautiful.

"Good afternoon, Kaori-san."

"Ahh…" Tsunade blinked a bit dumbly. "Hello."

"Sensei said that you should avoid eating heavy food for now but the Kitchen's soup is always very fine. I also brought you some water."

Tsunade brought the bowl of soup to her side and under her fingers she felt the glazed surface strangely rough. A bit reassuring in when even her fingers felt numb after such a long sleep.

"Don't mind the bowl," Izumi continued. "It was made at the kiln here by some students. Of course not all the work can be sold so we always end up with a mismatch of tableware.

"Silver cup?" Tsunade mused as she peered at its clear depths. "Do you know what it's for?"

Izumi blinked before smiling widely. "Ah, I didn't know if you'd realize. Back when I lived in the Lower City things like cups and spoons and plates made out of silver just seemed like a luxury made for those with too much time. Our forge produces these. Sensei told us dirty water was the first step in creating an epidemic. We usually melt any mistakes, but there's always a couple around. I thought…" And the guiles smile finally faltered. "Well, it's not like I don't know what Aoitsuki's reputation is. I thought I'd make you feel safer."

Tsunade stared at the girl whose head had steadily become more bowed. What a strange world, she thought distantly. She was not vain when she admitted to herself she'd always been too powerful, too beautiful, or even too highborn to invite a confidence between women. In all honestly, no one that did not owe her honestly had ever confided in her with their troubles.

Senju Tsunade was a woman men feared and woman envied. She was obeyed and glorified. She was hard and a warrior. A leader of a nation and mother to no one.

So it was strange when Tsunade raised her weathered hand and held the girl's downcast chin till she met brown eyes clearly.

"There is no need. This, too, will be my home."

Izumi smiled softly, a half-hidden grin that seemed more real than any other she had seen on the girl's face.

"I shouldn't be keeping you from your meal."

"Do you know where Naruto is? There are a few things I should probably clear up."

Izumi shrugged awkwardly, biting her lip. "Sensei's taking care of things within the village. He told me I could show you around for the time being but he won't be available for a day or two."

"What is that boy doing?"

"Ahh…I dunno?"

**S**

Kana didn't know what to say.

Five bolts of heavy silk cloth, two strings of pearls and one string of red corral. Misao did not say anything when they removed those items from the Former Clan's Vault. For her part Kana did not know what to say.

"_Lure,"_ Sensei said, something cold in his eyes.

Tachibana Sho was just one of the shop-owners in the Eight District. A background figure to Haneda; faceless, powerless, and useless. On her own she'd never seriously considered Tachibana to be any sort of solution to her problem.

"_Bait,"_ Sensei muttered that early morning, half the shop still dark and only deliverymen on the street.

Kana, carrying half the bolts of silk, shivered.

Both she and Naruto-Sensei were dressed in muted clothes. She'd burned with anger the moment they'd walked into the Eighth District, only to be thrown completely off-kilter when they met Tachibana instead of Hameda.

Kana never spoke, Naruto only used the politest of tones, and Tachibana could not quite hide his glee. She burned in both anger and humiliation all the walk back.

She'd finally had to ask. "May I retire? I feel a little faint."

Sensei never looked at her and there was no change in his countenance. "No. You will stay besides me till this is over._ Wait._"

She'd had to press her lips very tightly then not to shout back. Here they were paying tribute to a useless underling when three of her boys got even closer and closer to being send to the main prison. Housed in the same blocks with men and woman convicted years before of murdering innocent Bloodline civilians. Murdering outside of the code of war that protected civilians, Bloodline or not. Because that's what they were. Or even worse, her boys wouldn't be treated like the civilians they were and send to the shinobi prison next to attack dogs trained to tear apart boys like them at a hair-trigger.

So what good did catering to an underling do?

She stayed besides Sensei, as he went about his chores. Stayed besides him as he met and filed and came and went. Stayed besides him as the sun climbed and he did nothing for her boys.

And finally around mid-afternoon, Sensei tapped his fingers against his covered throat and finally looked at her. _"Catch."_

By then, Kana didn't have to be in the Eight District to know something was happening.

They did nothing else and Kana remained too tense too sleep easily that night. Fretful thoughts distracted her enough that she scarcely paid attention to the old woman who now occupied the third bed in their room. For now having Izumi at the woman's side would have to do.

It wasn't that a private room could not be found if they really wanted. It had become Aoitsuki's procedure to house newcomers with someone trusted. The mere fact Sensei brought the woman back with him said something about his regard for her, yet he remained silent over her status. Silent about what they should think or do with her.

She had yet to meet a more exasperating man.

He'd always been a big believer in them figuring out mattes themselves. In a way, the old woman Kaori had been handed to her for her to figure out.

Idiot Sensei.

Early in the morning, Naruto met her and together they made their way to the Watchtower's Courthouse.

Of course not all the shop-keepers were there. They all had businesses to run. But enough had come to serve as witnesses.

Kana scowled.

She sat through the introductions, through the accusations, and through Naruto's silence. Only the absence of blood told her she hadn't yet bitten through her lip.

"Yare, yare," Naruto sighed. "But I really don't understand. I thought Tachibana Sho was more likely a suspect than those boys."

"Ah...excuse me, Aoitsuki-san?"

"Well..." And here Naruto gave a sheepish grin. "Gossip isn't exactly a thing one can be above. I've heard Tachibana-san has been stealing from his own inventory. Bad business, you see, he has an unsecured debt. Why, the Courthouse should know he's on the verge of forfeiting his own shop because of debt."

The magistrate peered down at his papers. "Yes, the Court has been made aware of

Tachibana-san's misfortune."

"And yet those boys would be used as scapegoats for missing items? Eighth District is such an upscale place, certainly not the place where those boys would think of going to or even expecting of going unnoticed. I really don't understand how so many shop-owners can claim they'd seen those boys in the area and traced them all the way back to Aoitsuki House."

"They were caught nearby, Aoitsuki-san, and matched the descriptions accurately."

"Yet no merchandise was found on them, so there really isn't any physical proof; only circumstantial."

"But there are enough witnesses to file just complaint, and despite being minors, the Court can not expect merchants to bear the brunt of losses. Aoitsuki House must act as their legal guardian and assume responsibilities over their actions."

"Then, if this is to be a fair trial, I would like Tachibana Sho to join us for deliberation. He cannot be discounted as the culprit simply because life-long friends like these shop-owners would rather not suspect their own. After all, it is _fair_."

The magistrate coughed and grimaced. "Session is to end here and resume tomorrow. The Court orders Tachibana Sho's appearance at such a time."

Kana and Naruto filed out of the office, the former exchanging dirty looks with the uppity shop owners while the latter ignored everyone else.

"I don't understand." Kana muttered into her raised knees. "I don't know what Sensei is doing."

"Shhh, no need to cry." Izumi patted Kana's head in comfort. "You just have to wait a little while longer."

"Why? Why give such a tribute and not even get Tachibana's help! We've already paid more than was ever stolen."

"Just have patience."

Their next time in the Courthouse Kana had less anger and more confusion. She was starting to realize she really didn't know what was going on behind every polite word and gentle smile these shop-owners threw at each other. And they weren't exactly being subtle about it anymore if even she could see it.

Something had rattled them.

Kana wasn't sure to be proud or miffed that Naruto-Sensei saw through honeyed words and twitching shoulders to what really wasn't being said.

"Court is postponed till Tachibana-san presents himself to court. Should he miss the next scheduled meeting, charges will be dropped. Dismissed."

**S**

Tachibana-san didn't appear the next day either.

"_Complete."_

Kana eventually mustered enough angry pride to go past Tachibana's shop. Only to nearly bowl over another pedestrian when the person manning the counter wasn't Tachibana; was in fact a man she'd seen once before simpering after Haneda.

"I really wasn't lying when I said Tachibana had am unsecured loan. He owes a lot more than he can afford to pay right now." Naruto-Sensei had finally explained when she tracked him down.

Anger had been forgotten hours ago. All Kana had right now was a deep exasperation. "Then why go after us? Aoitsuki House is financially secure but it doesn't earn amounts large enough to be tempting."

"There's a few things I want you to remember, Kana." Today they were in the nursery. Naruto rocked a colicky infant whose complaints did not end. "Aoitsuki House and any place like it is very weak; more so than a poorer place would be. It's because there is something worth stealing here and it's tempting because our visible protection is so often tempered to below reasonable levels. We can't appear to ever be armed."

"What happened Sensei? You didn't to anything but bribe Tachibana. How could things settle so easily?"

"I didn't bribe _him_—not that he knew that. But truth and appearances, you remember, are so often very different things." Blue eyes were distantly cold and perhaps it was a good thing Naruto-Sensei had started to wear his headdress. "Oftentimes it is more important to know how a person thinks…because then you know how they can become undone. And the thing about bribes is that they are neither as secret as they should be nor are they ever large enough for everyone's greed.

"Tachibana is weak with wealth—he knows enough to avoid handling money laundered by Haneda. He wants more than he should and thus now owes more than he can afford to. But he really doesn't know how to control himself. Did you think that "bribe" of ours would ever make it to Haneda? Or that those supportive neighbors wouldn't know that Tachibana is filching it away or ask for their own share?

"Exploitation is always such a messy business—more so when you have enough people to incite a mob and its irrationality coupled with loose mouths. Those involved in illegal business tend to find illegal solutions to irritations.

"And while Haneda himself was very smart in using the law to trap us but he still is a small-time racketeer and he remains one because he can't control his temper. All together it creates a situation that has Tachibana losing a few fingers at best or becoming another faceless man in the landfill at worst.

"What I said that day in Court remains true. Tachibana probably is taking from his own inventory and reporting it as theft. The Court is meant to be fair but the people staffing it aren't. The moment they realized there might actually be a chance we trump them they dismissed this case. Letting those boys go free is a small price to pay to avoid having to record a precedent were Aoitsuki House is being defrauded."

Naruto cooed at the baby in his arms who was finally calming down. A perfectly normal child if it wasn't for another set of transparent eyelids. "How can we remain such a devilish house when we are made the victim?"

Kana couldn't say anything. Her chest shook and it took a few baffled seconds to realize she was laughing. "Those boys…they were…never….prove…innocent, were they?"

"No." Naruto hummed at the infant in his arms.

"Justice…" And all Kana could do is laugh. She was eighteen when a child died in her arms, murdered by the people around her for being born wrong.

Where was justice then?

Where was justice now?

Why did she think it would be different?

"Why did you want me to see all of this?" Kana finally asked, having calmed down. "You've never invited me before."

And he hadn't. It was only now that she fully realized he'd probably done many things in the past like this. Never overt—because that brought too much attention—but pushes here and there. People who thought they could exploit Aoitsuki House suddenly found themselves cornered by their own problems, more concerned with someone taking advantage of them.

It didn't stop the thought that their actions might mean Tachibana's permanent disappearance.

"This time everything was relatively clean. I'm responsible for creating the situation but I didn't do anything to push them into acting like how they did. We as the Aoitsuki House are still very weak. We cannot win by having the louder voice.

"You must understand this and apply it how you will. Very soon it will be your responsibility to be in my position."

Even if he made her tremble in pent up frustration, Naruto-sensei had always been a cornerstone of her world. Had been since the moment she handed a dead child to him and he took her in as well. She might not have been raised by him like so many others she now worked with but she had been saved just as much.

"A-Are you going somewhere?"

Dark blue eyes curved gently. "No, I'm not. You are—"

"Are you evicting me! Have I done something wrong?!"

"—Calm down!" He sighed. "I've never been good at breaking news. Ugh. Anyway, Shinge House will be completed in a few months. The project has been kept secret to avoid tampering but you should begin preparing yourself. Once completed you will be the Headmistress."

"Headmistress…me?" Kana was embarrassed to hear her voice squeak.

"Yes," was the calm reply, a little insulting considering he had just changed her world. Turned it upside down as he continued to hum to a grumpy baby.

"…Me?"

"You've been my assistant long enough to understand the administrative side of things. These past few days was the last lesson I have to give you. Protecting doesn't always mean being a shield; sometimes you have to be the knife that cuts others in the dark."

"…Sensei…I don't think I can do this."

"Kana you are so very much stronger than you believe."

She mulled his words quietly. Tried to imagine his responsibilities, without the comfort that he was only a call away. And to Shinge of all places…

"That's not all, right? Why did you choose Shinge?"

Even without looking, she could tell Naruto-sensei was smiling at her. "Various reasons. It's no secret we are reaching capacity here. A lot did have to do with what I could buy with the budget available. But the biggest reason of all…Kana, what do you think of our Mizukage's chances of remaining in office?"

"…Nil…We're due for a civil war, aren't we?"

"Probably. And what kind of target do you think Aoitsuki House makes?"

"…" She smiled grimly, for the first time feeling like she saw the whole picture—or at least as much as she could. "Will we make it in time?"

"Yes." A bare, pale hand soothed the infant's brow. The picture looked odd to Kana before she realized exactly what was wrong. Naruto-Sensei usually wore a pair of warm leather gloves. Gloves, she could recall settling over her eyes the first time she stumbled into Aoitsuki's gates, a babe's cold body in arms.

His hands were rarely bare, she realized.

Strange…she hadn't noticed.

**S**

The last few days had given birth to a nagging thought.

It began simple enough.

He'd come upon Tsunade in the greenhouses, whacking a student with a paper fan. She'd then proceeded to go off on a twenty-minute lecture regarding the proper way to trim _quietus rutilus folium _and yes, the moment they crushed the red-vein leaves they broke the capillaries that made the plant even remotely useful.

Had Shinge House come about because—somehow, somewhere—Tsunade, the Mother of Modern Medicine, would be there to see its birth?

"Sensei?"

"Excuse me?" he said, reminding himself it was no time to be lost in thoughts. He was meeting with what would become Shinge's Staff.

And Kana, slated to be Headmistress, was currently frowning at him. "Sensei, would it not be better to send the younger children—the babies—to Shinge? If this conflict comes as predicted they should be the last people to be in the middle of it."

A good portion of Shinge's future staff grimaced, no doubt remembering their own days in the midst of war. While most were over twenty only Kana could claim something over thirty. As such they had all lived through at least two of Mizu's inner conflicts.

Naruto simply drummed his fingers on the table. "Your staff will be very limited. I don't see how we can arrange things to deal with children that need constant attention and supervision. So far, my…method seems the most ideal."

_Always, he could feel. _

_Shadows of himself and dozens of hands and thoughts reaching their own task._

_TalkingReachingHoldingFallingListening—a thousand moments in the blink of an eye._

A lesser man would have long since gone mad.

Naruto was only grateful so few knew the actual implications of creating solid clones or thought to build his level of sensitivity with them.

Leiko frowned from across the table. "Then wouldn't it be better if you were to relocate to Shinge and Kana remain in Aoitsuki?"

Naruto ignored Kana's queasy face. "Again, I am more suited to dealing with matters here in Mizu. When the next conflict comes we have no way of knowing if it will be bloodless or spark off into chaos. This time around, Aoitsuki will be a target by virtue of the types of bloodlines housed here—and yes, that was also true last time around. However, this time there are enough children old enough and trained enough to make this place a worthwhile capture. Even now our boundaries are being tested. If a time should come for me to call the protections laid down—protections I've kept secret—I must be here do to so."

"…Our boundaries…?" Hein asked, blinking curiously. "Would Shinge share such boundaries?"

"To an extent, yes." Naruto admitted. "By virtue of my presence they are stronger but Shinge has also been retrofitted to include…seal wards."

They probably didn't realize what he'd admitted to them, he mused silently. Probably didn't realize this was the secret Aoitsuki's enemies were only now hesitantly coming to grips with. Didn't realize this was also what had even allowed Aoitsuki to survive more than one midnight drunken torch run.

But most of all, didn't realize what if meant for Naruto to know anything about seals.

Because this was also a fact: Seal Masters only came in two varieties—the very old and the very young. The young were just being taught the mysteries but only a fraction of them would survive to become very old. Seal crafting as a whole was a lot more likely to explode than work as it should.

"So Shinge will be more of a specialty school?"

"Yes. I plan to relocate most of the trades to Shinge. Teaching and production is a lot more vulnerable to interruptions here in the city. Only the very young, those pursing a Shinobi career, or those involved in apprenticeships or work within Mizu will remain. But what I hope is to specialize Shinge in the medical field. Everything from forging specific medical tools to weaving the coated gauze used on cuts and burns."

Everyone in the table eyed each other, suddenly realizing they were chosen because of they made up a large portion of their trained population. Better yet, many of them had already served outside apprenticeships. They would be the teachers.

Kana, however saw, the immediate problem. "Sensei, I can see how all of us would be able to build up many of the basic and intermediate skills, but to become a true professional we would need a master's help. And not just an outside master but an in-resident one."

Naruto's eyes were wry as he gestured for Hein, the nearest to the door to open it. "Please call in Kaori-san."

They all eyed the old woman who nearly glared at all of them with mixed feelings.

"This Kaori-san, a trained medical specialist. There is very little she does not know or cannot replicate within the medical field. I advise everyone who studies under her to learn well, Kaori-san is a very harsh taskmaster."

From across the room Tsunade smiled at Naruto. She was never too old for one more adventure.

Naruto tapped the desk.

_tap-tap-TAP_

_The clock was winding down._

Slowly, those faces around the table lost their hesitancy and gave way to excited grins. They were all young and ready to shape the very world.

_tap-tap-TAP_

_The only difference between spreading blood and a flower is the rate at which they bloom._

**S**

**26 Oct 2009**

**S**

**AN: Hey all my little readers. Thanks for all your support and comments. Some of them actually encouraged me to pick up this chapter or made me want to grin and say, 'aren't you sweet?'.**

**Anyway, if you review I'll give you a preview. Here's the preview: next chapter begins the civil war. Since you've chosen to read this you must now honor my deal: Now you owe me a review. Ha!**

_**Special Thanks: Shadow Rebirth (beta).**_


	9. Chapter 9

**S**

**In Which A Man Stands…**

**S**

In the shadows blood can hide as just another puddle. The perpetual trash that always seems to accumulate in alleyways stains all water—rain clear or guilty crimson—the same shade of grey.

But nothing can ever hide the _smell. _

If asked to describe the scent of blood, most are prone to say it smells like copper.

Naruto would like to call them all liars.

It's not like he doesn't understand the metallic quality of red blood cells, their iron content, or all manner of explanations. But anyone that says it smells like copper is still a liar.

He smells it before he sees the proof, but that is enough to have him frozen and an ugly snarl on his lips. It is only providence he is wearing his headdress.

For a moment he does not see the grimacing medic or hear the whispers and wails.

He is not there.

...

_Life and death; duality and contradiction and benediction and everything and nothing._

_Darkness tears his body apart and the only warmth is drying blood—all his._

_It hurts! _

_He is crying and waiting for the end. _

_Please…_

_Is this all that he was ever meant to have? Three days of unending agony and a purpose that is not his—was never his! NEVER!_

…

_He spasms again and only pain still gives him reassurance that his vessel is still his broken body. _

_Red pain, red death, red life, red skies—his mind chants its twisted lullaby._

Wails assault his ears and only his gritted teeth reassure him they're not his and he is not somewhere else, bound to the ground as everything he_ is_ is being taken. It is not his hateful cry—despair and rage and breaking—born so many years ago in a cave only he knows.

Naruto knows: still blood smells like death—the intangible phenomenon humans aren't meant to understand as anything other than an end. He knows the human mind breaks when it first smells beneath the metallic quality of blood.

Healers and killers understand most—flowing blood smells like struggle and life and power and all manner of opaque things. But even they have distaste for blood that has been still for too long.

Still blood—_a million deaths, here and there, and the Shinigami laughs each time_—is what _death_ truly smells like.

"If you are going to faint, step back," a waspish Watchtower guard rebukes. His face is curled in distain and he does not even try to hide the fact that Aoitsuki Naruto makes him uncomfortable.

Nothing of what Naruto feels is betrayed when he speaks. "If you could…?"

The guard twitches. "I know. Come this way."

The body has been straightened. Laid out as if it was already time to wrap flesh and bones and last testimony in unbleached linen for the coming pyre. A sliver of milky eyes shines dully from beneath a mangled lid. Whoever perpetuated the crime was…messy.

Simple clothes have been sheered and shredded half a dozen times, exposing cuts and stabs. Here and there a patch of the textile's original coloring still struggled through but for the most part the figure is mockingly dressed in the color worn by the priest of the main religion in Mizu—appropriately enough an unashamed _red_.

He goes about carefully. A clean patch of matted hair is nutmeg brown. An exposed elbow reveals two parallel scars the length of a hand. A mole hides where hair meets vulnerable neck. Finally, a birthmark hidden on the curve of an ear is excavated from underneath a layer of dried blood.

Rocking back on his heels, Naruto gazes at the young man—because that's who it was—and tries to catalogue his feelings.

A restless unease plays on his nerves but that has more to do with the visage than the act. Beneath that unease he knows the lullaby his mind sings.

—_redredredredredredred—_

_A howling beast!_

But that disquiet has been a constant companion for many years.

Worry, as well. Not for the dead but for what this act might mean. Why was the man killed? Was it the prelude to some greater act? Who was responsible?

But there was also a shiver of excitement. The young man, even now rotting and dead, was a piece in a larger puzzle. The beginning of a game where lives were wagered and blood paid.

…That was all. A boy dead and that was all.

Naruto could admit to himself he would never be a normal man, not like the people that walked around him or even like the gutted boy on the ground. He'd been desensitized too harshly; derailed, destroyed, doomed, deformed.

Some part of himself was still playing at human.

He dusted his hands of red flakes and as they drifted downward, he imagined a dice was rolled in the same fashion. A flick and shake and destiny was made with the soft _tap-tap_ of chance.

"Well?" the sour-faced Watchtower guard finally interrupted, impatient enough to overcome his reluctance of voluntarily addressing the notorious Aoitsuki.

"Tsuji Kenichi, age 19, orphan, resident of Ichitan, Third District."

The guard grumbled. "One of yours, eh?"

Naruto blinked back at him.

He coughed. "Right then. When was the last time you saw him?"

"April, three years ago. Tsuji voluntarily transferred from my guardianship to Mizu Ni Orphanage in the Fourth District."

The guard frowned and stamped his foot on some nonexistent bother. "He was normal then? None of that…" He coughed, uncomfortable with those penetrating dark blue-violet eyes. "…_That_."

Naruto continued to blink at the guard. "…Apparently."

"Do you know anyone with a motive to kill the boy?"

He glanced again at the rotting body and thought. He thought of his own House; he thought about Tsuji's angry scowl; he thought about a crying girl two years younger and bruises the shape of handprints on her wrists. He thought about the ultimatum he gave a sixteen year old boy; he thought about his own icy hands as he gently held the boy and the promises made.

_Tsuji hated the world—completely, unchangeably, eternally. He hated more than he feared and was thus oddly brave in the face of superior power._

_He only ever feared one man._

_A kind man who smiled as he whispered rebukes with a shinigami's smile._

Naruto shrugged. "From beginning to end he was only in my care four months. Tsuji was not comfortable at my House."

_Tsuji was passionate._

_It was what first attracted his attention._

_But bleeding passion that taints the rest of his wards was unacceptable._

_And unfortunately for Tsuji's drowning soul, Naruto did not indulge in redemption._

The guard had finally begun to face him fully now that the case was less like 'dirty blood' murder and more in the line of normality. Apparently, normal he could deal with.

"Anything else you recall?"

Naruto absentmindedly frowned at a stain on his sleeve. "Besides what I've already mentioned, no. Tsuji did not remain with me long nor did he ever return."

The guard grunted as he looked away. Unseen, Naruto smiled wryly. Evidently even his courage had limits.

"Will that be all? I have other duties to attend."

"You can go. The Watchtower will send summons if needed."

Neither bothered to say goodbye. It wasn't a pleasant meeting either way.

Onlookers gazed at him curiously but made little fuss over who he was. Kana fell into step next to him. She was pale and her hands trembled faintly but other than that there was only determination in her stance.

"Was it one of ours?"

Naruto thought of a crying girl and fading bruises. "No."

In an ideal world it would have been unkind to find relief in the fact as Kana did. But even at her most naïve she'd known to stand by those that belonged to her. "At least that's one grace. We don't have to worry about this matter as busy as things are with the move to Shinge."

His eyes flicked over to the woman at his side, not the least relaxed much to her trepidation. "Not quite. The fact that the murdered was a resident for four months before he was…persuaded to leave is trying."

"So he is ours?!"

"Not in that sense. Unfortunately, he did not coexist peacefully and Kana—we are a private organization with the luxury of expelling those unsuitable."

Kana flushed. "Sensei…did things really have to end like this for that boy? Don't you think if we'd helped him more…perhaps it could have made all the difference?"

A boy dead and that was all.

"Kana, there will come a time when you have to make the same decision. The boy was abusing other residents, those weaker and younger than himself. Warnings can only do so much and when that fails even constant attention must eventually abate. There is never that perfect guarantee that things will not turn out wrong. Help them or not, protect the others or not—that will be your choice. Which is the most danger; where is the most potential.

"There are consequences to each action, Kana." Kana nearly looked back but only sheer will kept her looking forward. "And only imperfect solutions."

The woman at his side remained silent as she mulled what she'd heard. "Why were you so insistent we come? If he…wasn't one of ours?"

"Betrayal is a science; you just have to find the person most willing to talk for the least amount of force. A captive is worth little if it takes three weeks to break them; he is worth considerable more if it takes thirty minutes. There is no value in what they know, only how long it takes for it to be shared."

Kana looked a little queasy but she kept her gaze straight. "And did he know anything of worth?"

"Everything is worth something, even if it is only the furniture placement in a room. Information is after all half the battle. But that isn't half as valuable as knowing who is the hierarchy. Something even that boy would know."

"And you think it's possible the boy was killed for his association to Aoitsuki? Will…anyone else be targeted?"

Naruto shrugged. "It's a possibility. As of yet there's no definite yes or no about anything but that is the worst case scenario."

Kana frowned at the pessimism but understood it. "Then why kill him? He should have little loyalty to Aoitsuki. I doubt it would have taken much to reveal what he knew."

He scoffed and muttered something that sounded like 'Mizu stubbornness'. "Conventional tactics—never leave someone that can stab you at the most inopportune time."

"Then why not get rid of the corpse? Surely they must have known it would be found if it was dumped like it was."

"More tactics. Messages and warnings are sent through more than words. That boy was a bloody way to butt horns with Aoitsuki without actually committing an offense. No one that belongs to Aoitsuki has been hurt, only someone who could easily have been one."

When Kana gazed at the sky she was unsurprised to find no deliverance. The more she learned about Naruto-sensei, the more she gave depth to a figure in her mind who'd been painted white in altruism. Naruto-sensei may be doing the world a service but it did not stop the man from having a crafty mind. She didn't know what to think of her increasingly tainted reality.

There was a certain comfort in becoming less blind but it did not stop her from feeling disillusioned.

"And like you said, the move to Shinge is a great opportunity for those looking for the chance. A great deal of goods and trained staff will be moving outside secured walls. And in any hasty move there is a risk for a great loss."

She grimaced and had the foreboding feeling she would be doing it often in the future. They both knew the true value of Shinge and those traveling there in eight weeks time. Mizu was stockpiling for its next civil war and eventually it wouldn't matter how many fighters each side had, only how fast it took to patch them up and send them out again. And every half-trained medic in Shinge's tutelage would be worth their weight in gold when that time came.

**S**

It was the first time since Tsunade had arrived that the two had found more than a few minutes together. Naruto could have certainly created another clone—there were already more than enough to be found around the compound—but Tsunade was still only one woman.

"Do you hate me now?" he said after a moment of silence, his voice light and clearly laughing.

She gave him an annoyed glare. "Teaching isn't all that terrible. Awful students make for awful teaching but I don't have any of those pampered cretins mucking things here. They are all eager to learn." Despite herself she lost her grumpiness and smiled fondly in remembrance.

"Your students are all older," Naruto corrected. "I have them still in their diapers and milk teeth. At that age pampering is a right of life."

They were both quiet as they gazed at mid-day hustle—children of all ages scrambling about. A good portion of those older ones all wore the grey smock that meant they were students of the as of yet unnamed, unacknowledged medic program.

"Naruto…you've done a good job."

He peered at the woman at his side, not sure how to feel about the compliment. Things used to be simpler. Aoitsuki and now Shinge—so many lives and responsibilities. He remembered his earlier conversation with Kana and felt oddly numb at the prospect of weighing one life against another for however many years things did not implode too badly.

Finally, he shrugged. "Could you do me a favor?"

He didn't look at her.

"Ready all the supplies you'll need for the Shinge move in two days."

Tsunade didn't question matters. He knew she wouldn't. She above everyone else would know how foolish it was actually to relocate in three weeks, the very day he'd contracted a shinobi escort from the Central Office. In terms of goods and skilled personal being transported the first move would be the safest, more so if it came as a surprise. Material possessions would be sent later on, when lives themselves were not in danger.

If all went well there would be no attack or at most a badly planned one. Even Tsunade could deal with that without having to resort to trade-marked finishing blows.

Stakes were climbing every day and every price asked only grew more costly. The rest of Shinge's staff was informed of the impeding move the very night Tsunade heard. It was the last wager Naruto would deliberately play.

Any last minute betrayals would be weeded out the very day they traveled. The party—made of a little under two-hundred people—would be at their most vulnerable during transit. Unknown to them, it was also the first time since Tsunade's retrial nearly six months earlier that Naruto's true body stepped outside the seals of Aoitsuki.

**S**

They started well before dawn.

Sleepy-eyed boys and girls were called down to the courtyard. Here and there a sibling darted into one of the Underclass dormitories to say a hasty goodbye to a younger sibling or friend. Everywhere a clone of Naruto darted to and fro, his dark-green clothes a trying camouflage at a time when more than one child suddenly realized they would soon be saying goodbye to a home and father (however unofficially).

Miraculously, false dawn still kept the sky dark when the gates of Aoitsuki were thrown open, startling more than one early-riser or late night delinquent. The sleepy-eyed guard that belonged to their neighbored choked before gapping and never recovering. They only had one real neighbor—another compound that had fallen into disrepair—whose walls stood between Aoitsuki House and busier streets.

It was a very strange sight.

Hushed whispers drifted here and there but other than that even the youngest child—a cheerful boy two days into his thirteenth year—did not break the group's solemnity. Standing three deep, they took the nearly empty streets dressed in a variety of styles. A great deal more than half wore the grey smock of their medical program while there were smatterings of green and brown—respectfully naming textile and carpentry/forging fields. But even more impressive was the long line they made.

Dawn had broken but had little chance of warming the air when the first of their group finally made it to Mizu's gates. As timed, they were nearly the first to meet the new guards.

Naruto could feel dozen's of his shadow hands firmly holding trembling hands. It wasn't surprising.

The most direct path to the village gate meant traveling through some of the busiest streets. But contrary to some of the more fearful expectations held by some of the children who'd spent most of their lives sequestered within the massive Aoitsuki compound, there were no angry slurs or flying stones thrown.

There was only silence.

A strange, awkward silence so often had when an uncomfortable truth was finally had. If it was at all possible, more than one pair of eyes would have dearly loved to shift away.

But in the end, how could they?

The truth was at no time more clear than that early morning. Witnessed by dozens of shopkeepers and early-morning risers the long line of children—nervous-eyed, curious things—made it as clear as it could possibly be.

They were only children.

_Children._ Naruto laughed, his bright amusement making over two hundred quiet footsteps jump.

"Ng!"

"Sensei!"

"Huh?!"

"—Eh!"

"Ah—?"

"Naruto-sensei?" Kana frowned. "If you could avoid giving us heart-attacks?"

"Sorry, Kana. Sorry."

Both his true-body's hands were tugged and Naruto met the smiling faces of twin-girls. They said nothing but made sure to give him gleeful grins. Not even there and they were already entertained by tormenting their new Headmistress.

Silent, watchful, weary, numb, curious, distrustful, wishful, and wistful. They all watched. Watched a generation of children born from their shared blood and finally saw something other than demon-born.

No demon ever squeaked at meeting curious eyes.

No demon ever peered so innocently from behind the arm of man covered in head to two in forest green and used as a shield.

No demon ever had eyes that big as they stood stock-still the first time they saw a massive colored thing at the glass-makers.

No demon could ever cry quietly for no reason at all.

But it was also the shared blood.

They weren't the dirty, big-bellied, hallow-eyed, skeleton things they could have been. They were tall and short, wiry and plump, most were dark-eyed and haired but there was also a decent representation of every hue and shape.

They were children.

Worse yet—or better as the case may be—they were _their_ children.

That was the exact hazel eyes of a loved grandmother.

A sister's silhouette.

A son's smile.

A husband's wide shoulders—still growing in that particular case.

A daughter's sullen lips.

An uncle's whey-colored straw hair.

They were_ their_ children.

Their children—shared blood denied and defiled for more than three generations.

That pre-dawn hour, held mostly in silence, released a little sigh held by Mizu itself. A heavy burden built on guilt and sorrow, wearily guarded, and just as grave as the day it was newly sentenced to their collective blood. Not since the time of the Seven Swordsman—nearly forty years ago—had the villagers been released from their unknown yoke.

Most weren't conscious of it; weren't even aware of it. But in that strange reflection that filed past them they saw themselves and their neighbors. Saw what they were and weren't and could be.

It was true.

They were all unwanted—because not all were orphans in the true sense of the word—but they were all also familiar.

Kirigakure is not just sea and cliffs and the bitter tang of salt.

Kirigakure is not just another sea and tempest and blood-stained floor and pale grinning bone.

It stands there—whispering and giggling here and there and pushing here too. It stands in the faces of these children.

It is shared blood.

From his position, Naruto has a good view of Kana. Her anxiety has kept her moving here and there and always a cautious eye on those watching. He watches her and waits till he finally sees what he was waiting for.

It is not a newfound forgiveness or understanding; nothing so profound as to make a sage stand up and take notice or a monk ring a bell in remembrance.

But Kana sees the people she has spent so many years hiding from behind Aoitsuki's compound walls and something in her finally relaxes. It is something repeated in those watching here.

Blood can still betray and hurt. They know that all too well. They have been divided from their neighbor because of that very fact.

But in all the hate and turmoil and fear it is easy to forget.

Kirigakure lives in their shared blood.

"Why are you smiling, Sensei?" Eimi—one of the twins holding his hand—asks curiously. She is a happy child, his from near the start of her life with no clear memory of rejection to undermine her.

His eyes crinkle as he looks down at the two inquisitive faces that make a game of peering the best they can into his masked face.

"Is this a sad day?"

Eimi frowns at Eiko and both girls silently shrug. "We're leaving but it's not really sad, is it?"

"No. You'll have a new home, so much bigger, and so much more room to explore and play in. You'll see so many things you've never seen before and there will be a whole new village for you to walk out in."

"Not like here," Eiko confesses, her eyes darting to those curious watchers. "It's never been safe."

Eimi pouts as she sullenly eyes many of the very same people that made her beloved Sensei deny them time and again the privilege of exploring their birth village.

"But you've been good girls, right?" Twin nods were self-satisfied in their accomplishment. "Then neither of you has ever been anything but good and beloved. Even if not everyone understands you, they've seen Eiko and Eimi and no one can ever say you two are anything but wonderful girls."

They blushed a little, but their smiles were proud. "It's not a sad day," Eimi decides.

"So there's no need to be sad, right?"

"No."

"So even thought the journey might seem long, it's alright to laugh." Happy grin's tugged at their pretty faces. "Today's an adventure."

Although he spoke softly in order not disturb the morning silence, he was by no means whispering. So it wasn't a surprise when those standing in front of him turned back. It was three boys, aged ambiguously in that awkward teenage state that meant anything from thirteen to sixteen.

Like with Eiko and Eimi, Naruto was bemusedly startled to realize he knew them. Knew them—names, history, dreams, first swear word, and the like. It was then sobering to realize he would be giving main guardianship over to someone else. That these children—who'd been his for so long—would be growing up without his constant odd presence in the background.

Funny that only now was that becoming clear.

"Sensei?" one of the boys began hesitantly. The middle one—mahogany hair, messy and nearly obscuring his eyes. A fourteen year old boy named Yuuhi. His eyes darted to the younger girls uncertainly but whatever his hesitance he spoke regardless. "Will things really be alright?"

Another boy—Satoshi—elaborated. "We mean…there've been rumors. Ah, all our dorm-mates have heard something. They say you—your original body—hasn't ever left the House. But you're here, aren't you? Here with us."

He shifted nervously, his face oddly flushed and unsettled. Not that Naruto didn't understand. It wasn't a childhood experience that gave him that clarity (he'd never had the experience); rather it came from belated understanding. Having him there was a comfort—a familiar, protective talisman to help face the unknown. At the same time, every protective instinct must have realized the danger he courted in stepping from behind secure walls.

"It seems I didn't pay enough attention to keeping things very quiet."

All three boys gave him incredulous looks.

"Well, any attention," Naruto amended. "Don't let it distract you. If nothing else, I've been doing this for a while."

None of the boys looked all that happy, but at length they turned back to continue their trek. Only the first boy who'd spoken, Yuuhi, continued his pensive stare. "Sensei…when we're there, and you come back, will we ever see Sensei again? If…if it's too dangerous to come…"

The small hands in his own tightened their grip and even the two boys who'd been playing at disinterest stiffened.

"Do you believe I could ever stop caring what happens to any of you? Distance doesn't matter. You'll have your teachers there but you've always had them. You'll have your friends there because they're coming along with you. You'll not have the younger children there but I image many of them will join you in a few years. And yes, you won't have me there but that doesn't mean I'll never come. Today's an adventure after all and it's about time you learn some of my old tricks." Here his eyes crinkled in mischievous mirth. "So how about it? Wanna see something cool?"

Despite themselves, they all gave grins. His glee was familiar, reminiscent of all the times he'd pounced on someone and proceeded to share his latest prank. Small, startling things—nothing as grand as childhood delinquencies he knew better than to share.

A sweet tea he'd once given to many of their shinobi dormmates and which had dyed their teeth a brilliant blue—and, in truth be told, a much humbling experience to those who'd become a little too proud of the distinction between civilian and shinobi.

A fine dust he'd once blown full into the face of easily hysterical senior girl.

A secret mural in one hidden garden shed—painted in every lurid shade and entirely offended by the mere thought of any sensible color.

Sensei and two tall boys dressed fully in the regalia of a traditional _Hyo_ female dancer—conscripted for a commission by three woman—two of which were uncommonly tall—and unashamedly paraded in front of every Aoitsuki gawker. Clumsily reenacting a hybrid tale—a mesh of a few others—in a brilliant spectacle so few of them had ever been allowed to see.

"Like what?" Eiko asked, bouncing with every second.

"You'll see," was the sing-song reply.

**S**

Kana thought it was a clone, but it was also true most days she was sure it was clone. Probability sided with it being a clone.

She scowled.

Sensei was contrary enough not to be a clone.

"Kana?" And this clone—or not—was peering at her curiously. Her thoughts had made her mind wander and now Sensei was making it out like she was the odd one.

"I'm sorry?"

Naruto-sensei was silent for a moment, peering at her, before shrugging. "We'll be traveling fast—best split into groups of twenty."

It was a perfectly acceptable plan.

Probably.

Kana couldn't help but glancing at the long train of children behind her. It was also nigh impossible. Too many small groups and they just became weaker targets. At least together they each had the greatest chance of making it to Shinge unimpeded. And that wasn't even taking into account their stamina.

Even Naruto looked back to count their train. He cleared his throat. "We'll be using some shinobi tricks to smooth our way."

"Oh?" Simple, but with so much weightily interest. This was a secret he'd always been deaf and dumb to—the extent of his shinobi training.

And then he did the single most horrifying thing she could have expected. He pulled out a thin _tantō_, the handle elegant and the point sharp—a perfect tool for any noblewoman.

And…

He slid it deeply into his palm. Brilliant and rich his blood fled its wound and, contrary to everything she knew, flowed _up_ his arm. It veered and twisted in some predestined form and behind that beautiful trace—because it _was_; awful, pitiful, morbid, but so very beautiful—the _tantō_ followed, digging into his skin.

She wanted to say something, but her throat was very dry and she felt whatever might escape would just die on her tongue and choke her.

Naruto-sensei walked forward the whole time, his back to the assembly that had never stopped its march. And he continued his beautiful mutilation without a word, eyes furrowed and focused. A stay bead of sweat escaped his forehead and traced the indention of a lid. He carved and carved till there was scarcely an unmarked spot in the area from middle finger to elbow. But when he was done—however long it was she'd only managed to stare dumbly at him—it was _beautiful_.

There was something sinewy in the characters embedded on flesh, a sudden slant here was abandonment, a twist there was feral, and a curve here was wild. It was faintly familiar and foreign enough for her to know she'd never seen anything like it. But above all it was _primal_.

She shivered.

"Sen…sei?" Her voice cracked.

Naruto-sensei blinked at her. When he finally spoke there was something strained about his tone and she _knew_ whatever he had done was _powerful_. "Qui—Quickly. Separate them all into groups."

It really was no time to gape like a child. Her voice rose and for the first time she heard herself and actually thought she sounded like a Headmistress. "All of you with Hein! Leiko this is your group! Kaori—everyone from Mayumi to Ochi. Akira—you're in charge here! Ishida—these are all yours!"

She ran and yelled—and even if she couldn't see him she knew Sensei was trembling from whatever force he was containing.

"We're…ready!" Kana gasped when she reached his side.

"This…" Sensei shuddered. "This is going to be…" And she heard the reckless grin in his voice. "…_wild_."

His hands moved with lethargic slowness into one of those Shinobi handseals. Kana didn't recognize it but she could not miss the sudden press of air. It felt heavy and her lungs gasped inefficiently. Something compressed against her shoulders and had she not been as tensed as she was, Kana would have surely folded.

It only lasted a moment.

The next thing she knew the air gave a splitting cry and her hair slapped her face roughly; lose garments billowing in the unexpected draft.

It wasn't that the air smelled any cleaner or changed. But there was something intangible there. It danced around her and filled her lungs with a strange strength.

Another Naruto-sensei was suddenly at her side and when he touched her arm, unexpected static charge startled her.

"Ah!"

"Kana—" His voice was rougher than she'd ever heard. "If you could climb on my back?"

She blinked. "You want me to PIGGY-BACK?!"

"Kana."

She glanced around only to see more than enough clones to coax every startled person. "…Fine."

It was a bit awkward—Kana was a grown woman—but Naruto-Sensei gave no sign that he was at all bothered by her weight. The clone she was currently clinging to turned back to her, eyes direct. "We're going to run now. None of the main roads—it'll be pure wild brush. If you start having trouble breathing or have a problem tug on my ear."

His voice had a strange duality to it before she realized the exact message was being uttered by _every single clone_.

"Hold onto me. I won't let you fall." And they could all hear mirth as it made his voice light. "This is going to a ride like none other!"

Sudden yelps here and there and suddenly the sky was dancing and air howling. Kana pressed herself down before she realized she was moving.

The ground and sky swam. A far off tree was suddenly behind her. She'd seen shinobi sprint before. But whatever this was _it_ was even more. Above the sky darkened—unexpected clouds swirling back and forth—cyclones began their descent only to break the next breath. The air was unexpectedly chilled but she felt no cold and the very earth itself seem to pulse with an untamed virility.

It was the wind she realized.

She'd never known.

The wind could _sing_.

For Naruto the experience was more intense that he'd been prepared for. It was like being deprived of air for so long than the next lungful was half-painful and half-miraculous. His body hummed and his blood rejoiced.

Every step was more poetry and dancing than a simple sprint. He could feel the earth's heartbeat and warmth.

But it was the wind that caught him.

He'd always known.

The wind was _his_. Demons might have been twisted him to the likes of the fire of creation, but it was the wail of the wind that was his birthright.

It was ecstasy and euphoria.

For miles and miles around, clones—some loaded with something precious, other not—danced underneath drifting clouds and ever changing grey skies. At that moment they were dozens and only one—existing at the same time and intimately twisted in a seamless duality.

A distant observer would say that at that moment an expanse too great too comprehend had been flooded with natural chakra.

The wind sung to a man who had been born to understand it.

**S**

They were at his back, he realized. But still Endou Seiji did not turn around. Two full squads of his Clan's soldiers knelt behind him, waiting for an order than he should be giving.

Follow him.

Follow him, that is what he wanted to say. Follow Aoitsuki Naruto and kill him. His time had come.

It didn't matter that Seiji had often thought fondly of the man. It didn't matter that a part of him that hadn't been snuffed out by what it took to be Endou's Heir occasionally wished he could stop at Aoitsuki's compound and simply ask for tea.

It didn't matter.

Follow and kill Aoitsuki Naruto!

Hopeless, Seiji laughed in disbelief. Hopeless, Father; hopeless, Clan Elders; hopeless, Useless Mizukage.

That man was never someone they could have hoped to understand with only one meeting. That man had been watching them, studying them, leading them by bridle for years and years and always _winning_.

Even Endou Seiji—heralded prodigy and acknowledged Heir—hadn't realized.

What did Aoitsuki Naruto once say to him?

That smile of his, wild and sharp. _'I don't gamble for a reason. It's no fun if you always win.'_

Back then he'd been startled. Instincts honed by battles both physical and political had scented something odd. He'd known back then, without a doubt, how unwise it was to move against Aoitsuki House. So they hadn't.

He'd convinced his Clan to step back and watch matters unfold. And within months uneasy frowns turned to half-worried, half-relieved gazes. It was folly to go against a Seal expert on his own territory.

But then word came that Aoitsuki was expanding to a second property. It was only the placement of a spy within the gate-guards that allowed Endou to muscle a contingency of their own men to follow Aoitsuki Naruto. That man had—wisely—begun his journey weeks before schedule and without a single word to anyone or request for an official shinobi escort.

But then again, he didn't need to bother.

Hopeless, Seiji reiterated as biting cold winds numbed his face. They'd easily caught up with the civilian group and come upon them when they were all still together.

And the best moment of attack had probably come and gone long before they'd ever made it.

Things turned strange.

Oh, it wasn't the amount of clones or shinobi sprint. Endou had expected that. He could deal with that.

It was everything else.

The clear morning sky had suddenly darkened and the wind picked up. It felt like they were in the middle of the most vicious storm possible, only there was no rain. When all those bushin commenced running he'd begun to realize how impossible it was. They ran like nothing he'd ever seen. Even the fastest man at his back would never be able to reach even one dammed bushin.

That wasn't even taking into account the wave of power rippling into the horizon. For as far as he could see the earth was saturated in chakra, the overwhelming flood over-saturating every possible means of tracking. They would never be able to find a single chakra signature, much less the original. So much chakra; more than he'd ever seen a single living being produce. Visible strands of chakra twisted into their own creations all along the horizon; all around the air was heavy to breath and the very sky was being played with.

And there wasn't even the possibility to prepare a trap on any road. Those bushin scattered in every direction, traveling through the brush and taking every path but the one they should have.

Follow and kill Aoitsuki Naruto.

Endou Seiji laughed.

And a figure descended from the sky.

His guards tensed but he didn't bother. He understood the man well enough to know he would not kill them.

"Greeting Aoitsuki-san."

The figure nodded but did nothing else from his perch on one of the many boulders they'd used as a vantage point. "Endou-san, have you had a pleasant morning?"

"It was enlightening." Seiji gestured to the wide expanse, stunned amusement making him half-silly. "I wasn't completely sure if your original warnings translated over into this aspect of combat."

The clone—probably—shrugged carelessly. "It's not something I practice often."

Again, Seiji's eyes strayed to the horizon. Cyclones of air traveled half-way to the ground before breaking apart and every single sense was nearly blinded by the amount of chakra in the air—no matter that they weren't actually in the area of greatest impact.

"I suppose I can only be thankful for that." His guards were still wired but at least half had realized the futility of everything. With rare and probably inappropriate frankness, Seiji asked, "We never had a chance, did we?"

Aoitsuki-san nodded, apparently not offended by the idea of his own assassination. "I usually don't like parading these talents, mostly because I don't want to involve myself in shinobi matters but also because I just don't like the attention. Civilian life suits me."

"…Why? Why this show now?"

Crouched on his bolder, Aoitsuki-san rocked back and forth on his heels. "I don't like attention. But I'm not stupid enough to not use any means necessary. This," he said, gesturing behind him, "This is not something just anyone can go up against unprepared."

"Are you saying we are not up to mark?" Endou asked with false offended faith.

Aoitsuki-san just gave him a look. "If you were, would you be letting a mere bushin entertain you?"

Seiji was again filled with badly chosen delight. "And would you bother to send us a bushin if you weren't interested in keeping an eye on us?"

"You're very clever. Do you believe yourself the only group that followed me this morning?"

"No, I expect we weren't."

Aoitsuki-san raised both hands and studied them. "Not everyone was clever enough not to follow me or to stop when it was wisest."

The information was taken and dissected but not unexpected. Instead Seiji studied the naked palms Aoitsuki-san was currently inspecting. "What do you see?"

"…It has been a long time since I've killed a man," he quietly admitted.

"And does that bother you?"

They all fell into silence; Aoitsuki-san pensive, Seiji curious, and the two squads at his back nervous.

"No." Blue-violet eyes flickered from Seiji to his guards. "If you hate enough, you become numb to many things. And even when that hate fades, not everything lost comes back."

It felt like a warning; an ominous one. It shouldn't have been. Nearly all the people there were survivors of the Oga-Tsugura conflict. They were all experienced, bloodied long past their first death. But Aoitsuki-san spoke and even the dimmest among them could detect the feeling that somewhere, sometime ago, the man had hated with a destructive passion.

"If you think like that, I wonder why you don't actively practice at being a shinobi. You certainly have the sheer balls to be one," Seiji accused fairly crudely.

Seiji wondered how much nonchalance came from being a mere clone and how much was from the man himself. Anyone else would have affronted at his frankness.

"I thought it was obvious: Once you start it becomes very hard to stop. And truth be told, my dear Endou-san, the more I am invited to play these games, the more they…_thrill_ me. Even this," he gestured behind him, "is not off-putting sufficiently for certain parties to agree I am better left in my dream."

"This is the reality of Kirigakure. Even a foreigner should know that." A subtle barb there no one pretended they didn't understand.

Aoitsuki-san remained unperturbed. "You're certainly in a mood."

Seiji allowed the evasion. "It should be understandable. I've basically failed in this mission and then must put up with a bushin of the man confirm it."

"I don't know what else I can say," Aoitsuki Naruto finally said. "Being harmless wasn't enough. Being skilled wasn't enough. Must I show you regrets?"

"…Regrets?"

For the first time Aoitsuki-san looked directly at him, unflinching violet-blue eyes freezing him to the bone. His hand twisted and that was enough for an eerie pitch to begin. He didn't recognize what it was till strands of chakra-wind began funneling in Aoitsuki's hand, becoming louder and louder.

Oh…_hell_.

From behind Seiji, ninja wire flashed silver and pierced into Aoitsuki. The moment hung suspended between all of them.

And then Aoitsuki-san shattered into water.

Endou Seiji signaled his guard to stand down but could otherwise not make a sound.

**S**

Over the years, his control and sensitivity over his sold bushin continued to improve. So much so that the morning he departed Shinge—and all its occupants—a contingent of clones had been created and matrixed to last a good deal of time.

By then it was perfectly obvious Naruto would be returning to Shinge on a fairly regular basis. Having managed to ferry some two hundred or so people under every conceivable tracker had relaxed some deep anxieties.

The odd shinobi stationed at Shinge had tried to follow Naruto, only to report the target lost half a mile into the journey. No other records exist to mark his passage save logs of his arrival at Mizu's Gate much sooner than should have been expected.

Not that it mattered.

Exactly four days later, the Mizukage's residence exploded.

The midnight pyre was accompanied by a boom that shook walls, made every dog and cat howl in tantrum, and was the direct cause of a sick dread that invaded most every resident of Kirigakure.

The Bloody Mist's latest civil war had begun.

"Intelligence estimates it was either Asaka or Yuu-Shigeki," Ren admitted that very morning, the only sign of his restlessness was the constant tapping of his fingers.

"Is it alright for you to be sharing what Intelligence knows?"

Ren uncharacteristically snorted. "Right now Intelligence is like a sieve. Most of what _we_ take for common knowledge has already made the rounds in every major and minor Clan. The Division Head already Sealed everything sensitive. Till this runs its course, Intelligence will only function as it should in foreign matters."

The grim prognosis was very much expected. Aoitsuki House's walls were high enough to block all neighbors but not even they could hide the distant funnel of smoke that marked the still burning Mizukage residence. Without notice an impromptu council had gathered that very morning in the deceptively peaceful arbored walkway within Aoitsuki.

Watanuki Ren, Yutaka and Genji, Yamamoto Hikari, and Ishiro Etsuo were once more gathered as the de facto representatives of current and former Aoitsuki-bred shinobi.

Naruto studied them all intently. He spoke mostly for the two youngest but also as a reminder for his older children. "From here on out your service to Mizu must be without reproach. Whatever turmoil or concessions you may be coerced into making, do remember that this will eventually be over. And when that happens, even if you helped a faction, let it always be for the good of Mizu. None of you can be made examples of by the new regime so long as your loyalty to Mizu is untainted, even if your loyalty to its Mizukage may be subject."

He waited till Hikari and Etsuo nodded their understanding. He would trust them to relay his words to their year-mates. Just like them, Naruto had to remain above reproach. His actions could never be seen as orders or direct meddling in Mizu's military affairs.

"I have been considering recommending all gennin-grade residents take a leave of absence."

Etsuo momentary gaped at the news but true to their mantle, he considered the suggestion.

"Is—" Etsuo squeaked, no doubt unnerved by so many of his seniors. Unfortunately for his nerves, it was implicitly agreed an active gennin had to be there to represent their case. "Is that what you did last time?"

Naruto shrugged. "In a way. The situation was also very different. During the Oga-Tsugura conflict, Aoitsuki was not very well known. There were far fewer active shinobi so it wasn't very noteworthy when the few youngest we had back then took a leave of absence. Our numbers are very different today. Whatever action Aoitsuki House recommends will not be quiet."

Etsuo scowled at the entirely unhelpful history.

"Gennin can be excused." Yutaka offered unsympathetically. "They will mostly be cannon fodder. Chuunin, however, will be heavily relied on. Most outside missions that should have fallen on either Jounin or Gennin will go to them."

Hikari—the lone girl in the odd group—frowned unhappily. "Etsuo, you might not have a choice either way. You're too visible. But I agree; most gennin aren't considered as heavily invested in this lifestyle as Chuunin."

"Screwed if you don't, screwed if you do." Genji sniggered from behind Yutaka.

Etsuo glared. "Like you have a choice either, Jounin."

"Sensei…what about Aoitsuki House?" Hikari finally voiced what none of them had been keen on asking.

Ren slouched, hair shading his dark eyes. "The probability of Aoitsuki House becoming a target is very high. Besides major Clan compounds and the official buildings, this is the next highest concentration of trained shinobi. Additionally, the disproportionate concentration of young shinobi makes for a more tempting target. Aoitsuki House just doesn't have access to the same security measures established Clan's have."

"That's not exactly a glowing recommendation," Genji contradicted, most likely just to be contrary but nevertheless accurate. "They've been plenty of Clans that fell despite their shinny security."

"Including the Clan that lived in _this_ compound," Yutaka added. "Mizu has experience overcoming these walls."

Naruto shook his head. "No, well at least not the same way. I don't like trusting things dead men have cause to regret. There's a reason I stayed in Kirigakure and not Shinge."

Ren examined Naruto closely, eyes interested and fully aware on what kind of line he was towing. "This security…would it have anything to do with all those rumors of Seals and such?"

"Uhh…do tell, Sensei." Genji bounced forward.

"_Genji."_

"Eh, no need to fret Hikari. I'm just asking."

"Genji."

"Not you too Yutaka! I just want to know what Sensei is hiding! And why is no one saying anything to Ren?"

"Maybe cause Ren's a decent guy," Etsuo muttered loud enough for shinobi hearing.

"I agree," was Yutaka calm deduction.

Genji sputtered.

Naruto blinked at the group, somewhat bemused. "Well…not that it's a secret—anymore anyway—but yes, I will be activating some lovely seals. Not all of them, mind you, just enough to allow some outside interaction. But as soon as things escalate I'm certain there will come a time when I will have to pull this House into complete isolation. That is why I want all those currently living outside this House to consider whether to stay where they are or to temporarily relocate. There's certainly enough room now."

Of Aoitsuki-bred shinobi, most Jounin and a small group of Chunnin were the only ones currently living outside its walls. While it was not uncommon to have adults remain as gennin, it said something about an orphan's internal drive that Naruto had scarcely seen one in his own flock.

"I would advise those with a bloodline to relocate. They might not be targets initially, but uncomfortable neighbors means uncomfortable tensions," Yutaka said, well aware of his own heritage.

Next to him Genji scowled. "War brings out the ugly in people."

"Everyone else should best stay where they are. Too many sudden movements will bring unwanted attention. Should things turn more chaotic, _then_ it would probably be best if we retreat here," Ren added. "However, keeping in touch will become vital. Should one of us go missing, they will be lucky to only be dead. Interrogation to infiltrate Aoitsuki House will become a very real possibility."

They all looked a little pale at the final suggestion.

"I think we've prepared what we could. Relay these suggestions to your year mates." Everyone from hawk-eyed Ren to pale Etsuo nodded. "From here on out, please use the Side Entrance to reach this compound."

The Side Entrance, they all noted, was also the entrance furthest away from the living quarters. They knew better than to ask why it was the only entrance that remained opened.

"Yes."

Before Ren could leave, Naruto moved forward to pull the taller man into his arms. Resigning to the inevitable, Ren put up with it. It did not escape either that there was a new solemnity in this hug. After all, Ren was one of the few that would remain outside Aoitsuki House.

The others didn't bother to retreat and waited for their own turn. There was little point in escaping the attention of man capable of generating clones as easy as sneezing. Genji and Yutaka protested to be contrary, but Naruto was too much a part of them for them to gripe seriously. Hikari smiled softly in his arms and Etsuo blushed just as brightly as he did every time.

The seriousness of the situation had Naruto recalling individual idiosyncrasies like a prayer in his head. Almost as if by remembering, it denied them the right of _not _existing. Naruto wasn't all that sure what to make of either his own superstition or concern. It was just another reminder of how much he had given of himself to these fragile creatures.

That very morning Naruto locked the front gates of Aoitsuki House. But unlike every other time he took out his by then familiar _tantō_ and nicked his palm. One bloody handprint came to rest in the dead center where the front gates met. Despite the wooden doors' many coats to retard moisture it only took a few minutes for the corrosiveness of his blood to peel them away. His blood soaked into the wood grains and like toppling dominos a bright blue flash traveled all along the compound walls.

Aoitsuki House had just been Sealed.

**S**

**17 Nov 2009**

**S**

**AN: Reading reviews is never so uplifting as when someone says my story made them stop and think or imagine their own awesome and righteous conclusion. Additionally, I have never seen a group lobby as happily for a civil war as you all did.**

**Unfortunately I didn't get as far as I expected but rather than continue it seemed like a good place to stop and post. The fact I posted within a month (I really don't have the best record) can be attributed to everyone that has reviewed. **

**Congratulations! Review-bribes and flattery (especially flattery) works.**

_**Special Thanks: Shadow Rebirth (beta).**_


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: You know it.

A/N: This is what is called shock and awe.

**S**

**There For The Taking**

**S**

The Mizukage residence burned for three nights, more of a testament to elaborate architecture and paranoia than anything else. Shinobi being who they were it was all together an easy matter to snuff the blaze. But it still burned.

No one wanted to be the hero that stood up. Within the Bloody Mist, insensibility was the jerk-knee reaction.

The stuttering fire eventually died off under the morning fog; its light unnoticed in their new reality.

They were a Hidden Village without a _kage_ and what executive power Mizu's Council possessed had ordered the Village's lockdown. Whatever powers' resided in Mizu would have to resolve the issue themselves while a few cool heads did their best to prevent infiltration by other powers.

There are stages to war—civil war being no exception. The beginning of war is defined by an odd mix of bravado and trepidation. Before the reality of war is revealed every half-ambitious man and woman dreams of being a newborn legend; of being one of the few to break the impossible boundary between the ordinary and extraordinary. Even those in charge—who should know better than to dream—insist on retaining a sense of invincibility. In the beginning every notable power has a stockpile of supplies and men. It is easy to imagine victory.

But unless there is one overwhelmingly superior power—and there isn't—war will only be resolved in the endgame, desperate dogfights.

Naruto had seen all this before.

He's seen it once already within Mizu. But even then he has seen it many times as a boy trailing a white-haired pervert across every reach of the continent.

War and conflict is just another universal concept.

And a boy scowled resentfully—just as he once did—at nothing in particular. Inari—newly minted gennin—was too talented to be retired like many of his dorm mates.

"Sensei? Why…" An uncertain frowned flashed across the child's face. "Why…is Mizu like this?"

His hand came to tousle the child's hair. "Conflict…people have been asking that question for ages. I was your age when I asked my mentor and he'd traveled the world for decades without having found an answer."

Inari kept his face half-inquisitive and half-petulant.

"It's wrong." He said with all the certainty of a child that could still see in black and white with no shade of gray. He repeated, more quietly and a tat fiercer, "It's wrong."

Nagawa Suki, gennin, member of Team 2, teammate of Ito Hiiro and Aomaki Inari, died eight hours ago.

"If you revenge yourself against those that hurt you, and in turn are hurt by them in vengeance, then despite understanding each other, you cannot hope to ever find peace. It is a cycle of hatred that creates conflict; that rules the world of shinobi."

Inari didn't look at him, the scent of salt betraying the presence of tears. "How do you stop it?"

"That is the question, isn't it?"

"I'll find the answer." Fierce eyes turned to him. "I will!"

Naruto smiled. Decades ago he'd promised something similar. And now this boy turned to him and he saw so many faces. Enemies and allies alike had carried those very eyes and sworn to change the world—for better or worse.

**S**

Information became sketchy as time wore on. For all intents and purposes the Intelligence Department was operating outside the village proper and waiting for everyone of interest to slug it out.

Sometimes the only proof a skirmish was a flashy jutsu made by some inexperienced shinobi. There was a reason Mizu was famed for its silent killing.

And the only reason he was warned about the attack on Aoitsuki House was due to a most unfortunate overlap of events. In a melting pot of confusion, three rival groups had met nearly a block away and proceeded to flaunt their grievances—loudly.

He'd been there, perched high on a courtyard's tree branch. Curiosity, mostly.

But shinobi who are too much of a shinobi—if one could understand that—are almost as unsubtle as greenhorn civilian. Sometimes they are the worst at blending, if one knows what to look for.

And he did.

_Little puppets dancing on a sting, given anagrams of personality and called human_, something malicious in him whispered.

Not like that was new.

So he hummed a lullaby even as distant explosions and crackles faded.

Unnaturally concentrated and stilted chakra—too much a shinobi—advanced on his position. Oh, but they weren't alone. Wilder points—fresher and younger—hid beneath their own aura. Like close knit partners, except he didn't think it anything remotely innocent.

And he saw them now, not that they were attempting to hide. Never mind shinobi tenets; they were in this way rather sharp.

Hadn't he always known? Hadn't he already been warned?

There would come a day when his children would be used against him.

They stood in plain sight. Five shinobi, dressed in drab grey and brown; they wore no significant marker and even what features he could see could be just another illusion. And in their hands the slumped figures of five of his children—gennin still—rested. Distantly he knew they'd be mortified once they knew what they had been forced to betray.

Things were changing. He was changing or maybe just discarding his self-delusions. He'd been so sure when the time came—when his own would be hostages against him—he'd be able to look away. To retreat from what he saw and let men twist themselves.

Perhaps there was a little more of his younger self in him than he realized. Tsunade would no doubt approve.

But still…

He stepped forward; and those hooded shinobi didn't know enough to realize it's been years since he'd done anything but stand still.

"Kneel. Place your hands on the ground. Disobedience will be punished."

It was a woman's voice—modulated to near androgynous level. But it would take more than one trick to fool the last apprentice of a man who'd prided himself of being a connoisseur of woman.

No bragging, no emotion, no unnecessary waste.

Knees now soaked with damp from the ground, Naruto smiled faintly as he looked down on the ground. It taken years for anyone to consider him a threat.

Strange, how reminiscent he seemed today. Did it mean his old volatility was on the rise?

He only had a second to hear—and that was more than enough—the dull thumps of bodies falling—before the world became dark and he knew no more.

Not that it mattered.

**S**

He woke sometime later. His hands were bound in a bleached wire threaded jacket. For all intent and purposes, he was dressed fit to step into an asylum. Furthermore, his feet were chained, the gleaming steel etched with chakra suppressing seals. A strange weakness tugged at him and he knew it was because brilliant blue (…_human_…) chakra was being stifled.

Something nasty and hot tugged at the pit of his stomach. Chakra—_red for destruction, red for rage, red for calamity_—ghosted through his veins. It been too long since it had been denied.

But dear gods, how it _burned_.

For all he made ill-thought allusions to being more a monster than human maybe he'd really been wrong all along.

Because it _burned._

Like fire.

And didn't that just have to remind him of all the moronic things he'd done and not done.

_Dobe_, still.

Naruto chucked weakly, eyes still closed.

Soft steps hovered near him, deft fingers touching his face and numbing it a second later.

They really weren't taking any chances. Perhaps they knew of something like Orochimaru's odd tongue.

Minutes were hard to judge when the worth of a second was always relative. And though he felt more than a little bored it couldn't have been more than an hour before more footsteps approached him. His senses were numb and thought the world felt duller it did not stop his nose from picking up the warm scent of sandalwood and steel.

So he opened his eyes. His visitor was a middle age man, grey haired and steel-eyed with a face marred by a two scars on each cheek.

It was a poor mimicry of his demonic possession marks. Not that this man would know of anything to that effect.

And he wanted to _howl_. At the stupidity, the irony, the improbability—but most of all the luck.

On either side of him stood a young man and woman, similar enough in features to be very closely related if those grey-eyes were any indication.

"Aoitsuki." The Elder smirked. "You are cordially invited to be our guest for however long it takes for you to be…reeducated."

The young man remained impassive but it was the woman—despite her poise—that spared a burning glance to the Elder.

How…interesting, Naruto grinned. His head cracked back as a blow slammed, his vision swimming.

"I would advise you to not taking anything here in jest."

They were gone.

Naruto scoffed in his cell. He was very curious as to why Asaka—one of the primary suspects behind the Mizukage's early retirement—felt the need to abduct him. Surely it wasn't because any of his resources. Asaka must have known what it faced when it sparked off the civil war. They would have had to stockpile supplies with time and it was much too early for them to start feeling pinched.

Why exactly was he being cowed just now?

Certainly not for what he knew—hours later and there had yet to be an interrogator present. It was a conventional tactic, isolating and keeping him in suspense, letting his own mind imagine his worst horror.

Conventional might as well have been useless for all that it affected its intended target.

So why take him now?

He was resolved to wait.

Absentmindedly he glanced at the seals etched on his cuffs. Already they had begun to be marred. The corrosive nature of demonic chakra was not to be underestimated—especially when there were no other primary seals that marked the sealing of the demon. But what did they know? Sealing his human chakra was the worst thing they could have done.

Naruto grimaced, wincing when like flash and fire, pain danced near his navel.

How it _burned_.

**S**

It was the young woman this time. Alone and hooded.

Unseen, Naruto snickered, now certain Asaka's particular troubles were about to spill over to involve him.

"Wake up Aoitsuki." The woman commanded, her voice that of the favored daughter. _Ojou_; the clan princess.

Naruto lay sprawled in a corned, face flushed and sweat on his forehead. His face was haggard and eyes tired.

The arrogant asses were no doubt congratulating themselves and celebrating over ramen, he thought.

The pain had gotten worse. Too _human_, it was telling him.

Well _thanks_. Even his body was telling him he'd been a coward for too long.

And then this uppity little girl had to come.

His head rolled back and darkened blue eyes met grey head on. She was certainly good; nothing of her uncertainty or reluctance shown through her pretty features.

_36C_, a white-haired man would have leered.

Embarrassment and habit was the instinct: _Pervert!_

_A boy like you wouldn't understand. _Another leer.

"You have very little choice left now. My Clan will not let you leave here without some concession from you. You can either bow to my Clan Elders or stand with me."

_She's lovely when she takes control. _

Naruto twitched and almost wished he could glare at himself. "And…why should I join such an unknown as you?"

She flushed prettily. "You can either be a slave to my Clan's whims—watch as everything you have is drained away—or…or you can gain something by joining me. I offer my name and honorable marriage to me."

_Easy. Let's have fun. No need to settle down_. Naruto slammed his head against the wall, eyes heavenward.

…_Are you sure the baby's mine?_ The pervert had nearly stuttered. _Serves you right!_

He laughed. Woman like that—gutter whore or princess bride— used to give birth to such a sick feeling in his gut. Like bad milk.

Cruel eyes flickered up and down her form, his gaze assessing and unmoved. Did she think he was moved by lovely faces?

"And who exactly are you?"

She drew herself up, back squared and head high. "I am Asaka Kagana, daughter of Asaka Sho, Head of the Asaka Clan."

He hummed slightly. "Twin of the other Asaka Heir."

It was almost disappointing. She came looking for him to win some support against her twin brother. But to offer herself? Only if she planned to kill him as soon as the ink was dry would she ever agree to marriage; unless it was a real indicator of just how badly the Heir contest was going.

"And what exactly would I gain as an Asaka ornament?"

She couldn't honestly think he was deluded enough to think he could wrestle control from her should she ascent to Clan Head.

"And what exactly to you think being the Clan Elder's…toy will gain you?"

She was amusing, none-the-less. Like the barbed dolls that still insisted the baby was his. Trap a man, keep a man, control a man. Only this clan heiress didn't have a geisha ramming the subtly that came with these games into her skull.

"The thing about trapped quarry…promises are never worth what they were the day they were made." He snipped back.

She flinched, uncertain if it was a threat or a barb at her own ambitions.

Thin lipped now and a hint of the woman she might become. "Don't you dare belittle my name!"

"I'll give you this, princess. When you move make it count."

**S**

He'd never been very good at doing as he was told. Someone might have warned those stiff-lipped Asaka. Either way they would be discovering the fact soon enough.

That and the unreasonable agony those that touched his chains would no doubt feel. Demons were never meant to live next to humans. He should know.

Which might have been why he nearly gave those loitering in Aoitsuki's House a heart-attack.

"Father?" A boy muttered, standing so abruptly he overbalanced and nearly toppled over.

"Father!" The girl at his feet mouthed—similar enough to be his sister—and this time the child did topple over.

Small hands, dirty and grimy clutched at his clothes in what could only have been shinobi speed. Soon enough the news sparked into every corner of the compound with a suspiciously fast speed.

"Sensei!" A woman screamed, knees folding the moment she came into the courtyard. It was enough to draw everyone in hearing distance. Izumi, mess of red hair and all, barreled into him.

He'd only been gone two days.

Izumi clutched him harder.

Two days.

Starting from the moment they'd carried unconscious gennin left slumped at their gate. Two days as hour after hour dwindled and they realized clones whose chakra matrix had reached their most unstable point were dispelled and not replaced.

Till finally someone had puckered the courage to ask one of the clones.

The only reason the clones wouldn't be replaced would be if the original body wasn't there to replace them.

"Come with me." Calloused fingers gripped his arm. Titling his head back, he met Ren's dark expression.

"Izumi, Izumi. Its fine now. Don't worry." Naruto muttered as his hands shifted to form a single seal.

Ren didn't even bother to be ruffled as another Naruto pulled him away from the scene of tears. Silently they walked toward his office.

The door clicked lightly as Naruto eased it close. He turned around to face his one time ward.

And then Ren punched him.

"You idiot Sensei." Ren seethed.

Stunned he could only touch his aching cheek.

"You complete fool." Frustrated Ren ran his fingers through already wild hair. "What did you think you were doing?"

Ren fell into a chair with a huff. Still stunned Naruto silently took his own seat, suspiciously eyeing the office they'd entered. He was sure it was his—it just didn't feel like it at the moment.

"If you are lost, we are lost." Ren pressed his palm against his eyes. "Honestly, what did you think you are doing? You're the one that taught us to make smart choices. Since when was it perfectly acceptable to let yourself be _kidnapped_?"

Naruto gapped. "Ahh…"

Ren glared at him, completely unimpressed with his defense.

"Izumi isn't strong enough; _I'm_ not strong enough to hold this place together. You think you can walk away from us? After everything you've promised—everything you've build—you think you can walk away and we'd _remember you fondly_?" Ren finished with a hiss.

"This is your fault. Half of us are alive because we met you. You can't walk away and think this was a _job well done_. You don't get to run away from us."

Naruto wasn't sure if he wanted to _deny deny deny_ or just break out laughing.

"Shit, kid." Naruto muttered. What a joke.

"You stupid man." Ren wearily cursed him, relief finally breaking through worry. He stood up and closed in on Naruto. Half expecting another punch Naruto really did gape again as instead, Ren fell to his knees in front of him and buried his head in Naruto's lap.

Which was just odd, Naruto knew. And not just because Ren was starting to look older than Naruto. Ren hadn't let himself appear weak to anyone since he was a solemn, reed thin boy.

"I can't do this, Father." Ren confessed in a whisper. "I really can't."

Naruto numbly petted dark hair.

"You can't give wild creatures and monsters a family and expect a happy ever after."

Hands tightened around hair in reprimand. Naruto crouched over the head in his lap only to whisper fiercely, "_None_ of you are monsters."

Ren merely snorted at his adopted father's delusions. "It's your job to say that."

Naruto huffed as he straightened up. "Who's the stupid one here?"

Even as it began the half-smile died on Ren's lips. "Do you want to rule?"

Naruto was really starting to wish he knew even half the different mental tracks Ren was currently running down.

"You could, you know. You could."

Naruto remained silent. A boy in him screamed dreams for all the world to hear. And years later that man he became only had silence.

_I Will Be…!_

"You've always wanted our loyalty to belong to the village. Wanted us to love this place. And we do—have come do. But you can't be blind to who we are—were." Ren was silent for a few moments and Naruto was content to wait him out.

"I was sixteen when I tracked my birth mother down. The last time I saw her I was probably three and _kami _knows I hadn't a clue how she looked like. But I found her. I went to where she lives…I spend an entire day just looking at her—just looking. I don't know what I expected; didn't know if I was going to hate her or love or just snap and burn the whole place down. And you know, I spend a damn year brooding over what I felt when I finally saw her before coming to terms with it."

Ren sighed softly. "I didn't care. Apparently I only cared that _I didn't_ care. And I finally understand why. I might as well have been dropped from the sky for all that I have a mother. Because I don't. I only have a father and what seems to be hundreds of brothers and sisters." Ren tightened his grip on Naruto's clothes.

"I don't care if you want to rule or whatever mad idea you might have. But you can't run away from what you promised." Ren finally looked up at Naruto. "You cant take _wild creatures and monsters_—teach them to be human—and expect they've lost every trigger in them that makes that primal thing in all of us cling and fight for what we need. And we need you."

"You used to corral us away from that instinct—deflect the notion or need for you to have soldiers—by saying we couldn't act without damming our brother and sisters to what crimes we might commit. But it's _hell_.

"We lose if we fight, but father, we lose even more if we don't fight. I have spent the last few days trying to talk everyone from special jounin to academy student down from mass murder. I did the best I could even when I didn't believe the shit I was sharing. And I'm pretty sure there are a few more bodies in the gutters today than they were the day before. So you can't leave and break your promises and you can't keep pretending—even if we all would like to—that we're _normal_."

Something like vertigo was invading every sense in Naruto's body. He had two thoughts, neither of them pleasing. One, he might have been smarter when he was an idiot, and two, he should have seen this coming.

"We didn't end up here and calling you father—even if some of us never say it out loud—because things were right and normal. We were thrown away—left and lost and it was like we stopped being equal and human next to everyone else. So don't expect that we can keep pretending to be human when the very cornerstone for this facsimile of normality is taken away.

And he's known.

Hadn't he already known he'd die for his first home the moment cool metal slipped over his forehead?

He'd known _devotion_.

"It's too late for any of that." Ren finished, burning dark eyes and mouth pressed in a thin pale line. Calloused hands curled into the folds of his—by now—dirty cloths. "It's too late for any of that."

Horror burrowed through the pit of his stomach.

He'd just become Orochimaru; the Elemental Nations had the worst luck in raising orphans into anything levelheaded.

"Hell…"

Ren could read the pale features of his father and sense the sick nausea that seemed to be rising. And even if he flinched a little, clenched lips never took back the awful revelation.

Not after everything he'd dammed himself into doing.

Because this man had to understand. Understand it as well as Ren did.

Because Aoitsuki Naruto had become a linchpin in one too many psyches. And should he die—be killed—not even Ren—for all his theories and calculations—could stop the maelstrom.

Because Ren would pick a kunai himself and bury it in someone innocent. _Not so human after all_, he'd known. _But excelled shinobi_, his T&I mentor had mused.

A part of Naruto wanted to push Ren off. And to his shame he almost did. It would be human. But something kept him there. Maybe it was attachment; maybe it was as uncomplicated as responsibility, or even just guilt.

It didn't really matter.

"This isn't fair." Still petulant, even now. Still a child playing at adult, or at the very least human (when he knew he really should have been a shinobi). "This was never what I wanted."

And Ren—steel-eyed interrogation specialist, Ren—solemn, hard child gave him one silent study and scoffed.

"Get over it. This and that—we aren't playing house here. Aoitsuki has more in common with a mad house than we do paying mummy and daddy. It isn't enough to love us and love you in return. That alone makes everything more terrible. Can you accept this? That we're wrong—capable of doing awful, terrible things; for you, because of you." Ren leaned in closer, whispering now. "Capable of breaking.

Naruto jerked.

This was it. He could say it. Say it straightforwardly; forget all the riddles of his adult life. Say that it was wrong. He was wrong.

Not just capable of breaking. Broken.

"I…I…" The words withered.

Why?

It was there.

Say it.

"I—I…"

He wasn't strong; never when it mattered most. He wasn't any sort of role model anyone should look up to. And right now everything was so much duller because of his insecurity. Everything wonderful in his life was tainted by that nagging feeling—_will it still be here tomorrow?_

He still feared being alone; abandoned. Not so different from his charges. But it was even worse because he knew and encouraged his own insecurity. Hiding still.

Because when it came down do it he was still a child living off resentment.

So how could he be an adult, much less one responsible for hundreds?

But then again, how could he be anything else?

But now Ren was saying the same thing his willful, younger self had often thought.

_Get over it_.

Life sucked; gave out raw deals like they were the next best thing. Made soldiers and sacrifices out of children and every one else into stubborn old (_older_) fools.

_So what?_

The questioned rattled in his head, twisting and stumbling and choking till it fell into a spot near his heart, into a corner made just for it.

_So what?_

"Ren…" And for the first time he sounded like the old man he should have been. Weary and creaking and ready to face his responsibilities. His hand touched his son's—and he could not lie and say this wasn't his son—dark head before settling on a strong shoulder. "Get up you foolish boy."

Ren did, startled enough to obey without question.

Naruto laughed—or croaked. At that point it sounded the same.

"Ren…I haven't a clue what Mizu means; not really anyway. And I needed that for the longest time; not to see or know anything that made me think of where I came from. Because I was angry." And Naruto smiled his titled grin—half grimace and half fatalistic humor. "I'm still very angry but I suppose…it doesn't matter anymore, does it?"

"I've outlived any sort of future anyone ever saw for me." And not even Naruto was sure what he meant by his last words. "So I'll try not to be as stupid as I've been in this and in many other things."

Ren settled into a crouch, face serious and a little bit incredulous.

"And you'll stop running into idiotic escapades?"

Naruto smiled. And wondered why it was so much easier.

"I'll stop running."

_Get over it._

His twelve year old self could have told him that.

Because only his resolve had ever been weak. Because he'd let himself doubt; played the dead dog in hopes he'd be overlooked.

"I'll stop pretending." Naruto confided.

Ren eyed him strangely but equally intensely. Years of watching a mask and Ren could finally see the cracks in it. Would finally meet the man who'd saved him but had never been saved. Not by the ones that owed him the most. Not by Ren.

A strong hand gripped Ren's shoulder. "It's my own fault. It only figures that now I would be seen as a piece in someone's game, ready for the taking."

Ren shot him an annoyed glare. "You've done little from dissuading anyone of the contrary. Harmless civilian—of course you're a fat prize. If this kidnapping—one you didn't even try to escape!—didn't wake you up to the fact I don't know what would have."

Naruto laughed. "Clever. That I suppose is also my own fault. It's been a while since I've been duped like this."

Ren blushed.

"You're lucky you won."

"For what good it does me. They're a clever bunch. Soon enough they'll figure out why they weren't aware of how close strangers came to you. Yutaka at least should have seen it by now."

"Yutaka," Naruto repeated in bemusement. "Now there is a boy who doesn't forgive."

A sour glare was his only answer.

Get over it.

**S**

**21 Jan 2011  
**

**A/N: Miss me? This chapter has been done for about three months but I never felt like proof reading it. So ignore my various mistakes unless you prefer to wait another three months. **

**This chapter marks the conclusion of Naruto's healing. About time he got over. And yes, Ren let Naruto be kidnapped as a wake up call. It worked. **

** Up next Naruto finally starts acting instead of reacting. **

**As of today next chapter is 30% done.**

**That is all.  
**


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